Synodic Day
by Exia
Summary: He is a drell assassin. She is a human spectre. The only thing shared between them is loss. Until the day they meet, and teach each other how to love again.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: So, I'm not really big on these things, and especially not ones that are at the start of the story, but I've got some important things to say, so bear with me.

**First**: The first two chapters of this story are going to be identical to the two chapters that originally belonged to Delicate Beginnings. This is intentional.

**Second:** Delicate Beginnings has now been removed, given that their content is now contained inside of this newer, larger story. If you're looking for the back-story I had on Thane, have no fear, the first part of it is just below.

**Third:** I promised myself that I wouldn't publish anything new until it was complete, and I've done just that. Synodic Day is complete. I write all my stories the old fashioned way, with pen and paper. This means that I still have to type them up and edit them before they will be publishable, but the material has been created. Stick around long enough, and you'll get the whole story, have no fear.

The beta for this story is Dreamer in Silico, who has graciously agreed to help me improve my writing, despite her busy workload. Many thanks to you, Silico!

ooOO00OOoo

It was with a mixture of fear and pride that Mr. and Mrs. Krios left their son with the hanar elders. Thane Krios was turning six today, and he was going to be an assassin. He was so excited!

Thane's parents bowed deeply to the hanar elder who waited patiently at the edge of the sea for them to say their good byes.

"Thank you, Honored One, for this gift to our son," Thane's father said.

The hanar lowered its glowing snout slightly, ripples of color traveling up and down its flank.

Thane had recently received the optical surgery that would allow him to see the full range of hanar bioluminescent communication, and the beautiful ripples of color dazzled his still-healing eyes. Seeing the new colors entranced Thane so much that he could only stare rudely at the elder hanar as it carried on a fluid, but polite conversation with his parents.

When the conversation was done and the transfer of responsibility completed, his parents laid gentle hands on his shoulder, breaking his attention away from the rippling waves of violet that streamed down the hanar's flank – a smile.

"Mother? Father?" He said in surprise, blinking both sets of eyelids in rapid succession as he looked at them.

"Thane," his mother said with a watery smile, 'today, you go to meet your future." She pulled him into a tight hug. "I am so proud of you," she said, almost fiercely. She stepped back, fighting tears.

Thane's father reached out, placing a hand gently on his son's head, tenderly tracing the deep green scales he found there. "May Arashu protect you until Kalahira welcomes you to the sea," he said gravely to his son.

"Thank you, Father, Mother," Thane returned, just as gravely. He'd always been a somber child. Taking a half step backwards, he bowed to his parents, hands held out formally away from his sides, wrists barred. Straightening, he flashed them a quick smile before turning and going to stand by the side of the elder hanar.

Violet rippled along its flanks again, aimed at him, before it returned its attention to his parents. It spoke again, one last time, and this time, he retained the presence of mind to translate the flashes of color into words without getting too caught up in their beauty.

"This one deeply regrets the need for your son, and humbly sends its deepest gratitude for your sacrifice."

Confused and unsettled by the hanar's words, Thane nonetheless held his tongue. To speak out of turn was incredibly rude.

Nodding its snout deeply, the hanar gave its own version of a bow before turning slowly in place and heading into the sea. Thane followed, pulling the breather that all drell carried out of his pocket and fitting it over his mouth and nose with practiced ease. With over 90% of the planet covered in water, it was only practical for the drell to learn early on how to swim and use the breathers that made life on Kajhe possible for them.

Just before the waves closed over his head, Thane looked back to see his father tenderly kissing his mother's tears away as she clung to him.

He would not see them again for ten years.

Thane lay still as a statue against the cold metal of the table. His hands and arms were wrapped around a scaled down version of an adult's sniper rifle, elbows supporting his weight. Before his eyes, an oversized data pad scrolled through information, all of it material he had seen before.

This was a lesson on more than one thing. The chilled table was to teach him how to keep him mind and trigger finger sharp, even as the rest of his body's functions slowed sluggishly. Drell weren't truly cold-blodded, but they _were_ still more susceptible to heat and cold than other species, their bodies conserving energy by taking on whatever the ambient temperature was, up to a point.

This lesson was about control as well. Lying on a metal table was uncomfortable under the best of conditions, and his hands and arms had begun to cramp due to his unusual posture. Even so, he remained motionless.

Patience was the last lesson. The drell's eidetic memory meant that members of their race spent a relatively small number of years in school, compared to their typical lifespan. Few failed. Why would they, when they could voluntarily replay every lesson with perfect clarity? But here Thane was, watching the same information scroll by for the third time. Bored of the lesson – he already knew the weak points on a krogan, they didn't have any – Thane decided to drift into his memories, sure that he could keep himself from slipping into them so deeply that he began to vocalize.

Sifting through his memories was a lot like digging through a box of glass beads. Each segment in time was its own self-contained unit. Yet, he knew that should he wish, he could string them all together to make a necklace of memories that became his life. It was dangerous to do so, however. Each memory took time to review, even if it could be played faster than life, and it was possible to starve while viewing happier memories.

Finally selecting one, Thane held the memory-marble up in his mind's eye before delving into it. It was the day he'd completed his first painting.

_His hands tremble with anticipation, his eyes blink too rapidly. The white lights seem to hurt his eyes, but maybe it's the glare from the protective glass of a hundred paintings. He shuffles his feet about nervously as the hanar cluster about it, each one flashing nothing but polite interest as it studies his seascape._

_Turning as one, they leave, filing past him, flashing indigos and violets at him. They had liked it!_

_One hanar walked up to him, alternating colors of green and yellow, telling him it wished to speak to him._

_He opened his mouth to welcome it into conversation…_

The lighting in the room shifted, a shadow cast over his form where there should not be one. Pulled abruptly from the memory, it took Thane several long seconds to process the changes in his environment, and several more to convince his stiff neck muscles to allow him to tilt his head, peering about the room in surprise.

Before he'd entered the memory, Thane had been alone in the small metal room, laying on a large metal table, with many smaller tables scattered about the rooms perimeter, weighted down with weapons of various types and sizes. The walls also bore weapons, though most of those were of the projectile variety, pistols and sniper rifles and the occasional shotgun. Now the room was filled with hanar, each one wearing colors of orange and red – dissatisfaction and anger.

The eldest hanar took two steps towards him, snout lifted unhappily. Through the gap formed in the ring, he saw another drell, his teacher, lips pulled back from his teeth in a snarl. He was unhappy.

The eldest hanar spoke, "this one wishes to know where it is you go when you leave us for your memories." It spoke with bright flashes of color, though the orange dominated its words. They were very angry.

Nervous and uncertain, Thane answered its question the same way he always did, with the truth, "I was remembering the day I showed my painting to you," he said. The elder would remember; it was yesterday. There was a pause as all the hanar in the room processed his words.

Eventually, the elder spoke again, "this one wishes to know why you were remembering, instead of watching, as it asked you to do." The colors were crisp and bright. No lazy melding of colors as the patterns shifted from one to the next. It was very angry indeed.

Again, he answered honestly, "because, the lesson was on patience and control. I didn't move, still haven't, and I have already memorized the lesson. Why would I need to watch it again?" Thane strove to be polite, as his parents had taught him, but it was difficult. He was only eight.

A ripple of color went around the room – the shade of silver he knew was really ultraviolet – passed from one hanar to the next in a pattern Thane could not translate.

When it touched the elder, it flashed yellow in a momentary request for attention, before asking the others to leave. When the room was empty, save for the Elder and his teacher, the eldest hanar flashed Thane a small smile, a barely there ripple of violet down its side.

"This one wishes to know what you remember about the first lesson on krogan anatomy."

Released from his position on the table by the smile, thane brought himself up to sit on the table cross-legged, swinging his weapon across his body to lay on his lap in a disarmed position that would still allow him to bring it to bear upon an enemy should it become needful. Closing his eyes in an extended blink, Thane quickly searched through his memories and pulled up the appropriate one.

"Krogan come from the planet Tuchanka, the fourth planet in the Arakakh system, at the center of the Krogan DMZ. Once covered in thick jungles and shallow, silt seas, it is now a mostly barren wasteland, made so by the nuclear war the krogans fought against each other. They had been surviving it for two thousand years when the salarians found them and used them to end the rachni wars, a testament to their strength. They have primary, secondary, and in some instances, tertiary forms of their major organs, and they even have a back up nervous system, a free flowing neuro-fluid that makes them impossible to paralyze. Krogan naturally live over a thousand years, and it has been hypothesized that they may not even have a natural lifespan as other species. Their supreme body structure and regenerative abilities allow them to recover from things that would kill others, and the oldest recorded krogan is Warlord Okeer, who is still alive even now, over a thousand years after the end of the krogan rebellions.

"When approaching a krogan for an assassination, it must be noted that one, two, or even three well-aimed shots are not usually enough, and only massive damage to the body results in death. It is best to snipe them twice, set their bodies on fire, explode the remains, and then watch warily for them to get back up."

Finished with his summarization, Thane reopened his eyes only to blink rapidly at the gun his teacher held pointed at his face.

He recoiled immediately, doing a backwards summersault to disappear beyond the edge of the table, even as he brought his gun around and fired blindly in his Teacher's direction.

The move was flawless in its execution, he knew, but something told him that his aim had been off anyway. He had failed another test. Even as he had twisted his body around, Thane had felt the unmistakable sting of the jelly-like bullets his Teacher used in training hit his neck and back. They would not kill, no matter what gun they were fired from and at what range, but they would leave a nasty welt at close range. If they had been real bullets, he would be dead.

Thane held his breath for a few seconds, straining to hear any tiny sounds that would tell him his teacher was sneaking around to pop him again. Eventually, he risked peeking over the top of the table. All he saw was the eldest hanar, flashing a message.

"This one wishes for you to stand, Mr. Krios. This lesson is at its conclusion."

Thane brought his head back down and studied the part of the room on his side of the table. Shadows, corners, shadowed corner…his gaze swung back towards the space he just checked. It wasn't empty! He started to swing his rifle around, only to have a blunted knife whistle through the air and hit the bundle of nerves at his wrist that made his hand spasm and drop the gun. Bowing his head in defeat, Thane stood up from behind the table. He'd failed.

Again.

His Teacher came up behind him, "this lesson is at its conclusion, Krios." He said softly. All three beings in the room knew that the only person who could call off a lesson was his Teacher, the drell assassin who he was training to replace. The only test he'd passed.

Bending down, Thane picked up his rifle and slung it over his back, keeping his eyes trained on the ground as the hanar padded slowly out of the room. He could see its soothing blues and greens reflected off the metal flooring. It didn't want him to feel bad, but he'd failed. Why wouldn't he?

His Teacher placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, leading him towards the room's exit, "why did you not watch the vid, Krios?" His voice was soft, non-judgmental. It gave Thane the courage to respond.

"I didn't see why. I've already seen the vid on krogan biology. Twice now. I remember it, I do!" Thane's voice increased in volume at the end, and he abruptly cut himself off, struggling to maintain the calm demeanor an assassin must hold to at all times.

"Krios…Thane. The lessons weren't all the same. Yes, they were on krogan biology, but the first one was on their planet and their major organs the second was on their reproductive cycle and the genophage, focusing on how it has colored their psychology." His Teacher brought them to a stop, slowly turning Thane by gentle pressure applied to his shoulder until they were facing one another. "Did you think I'd forgotten how good your memory was? I'm drell too."

If it was possible, Thane bowed his head further, his neck ridges flushing with shame, "No, I didn't think you'd forgotten, I just, didn't…I don't know!" He burst out.

His Teacher lowered himself until he was the same height as Thane, then he forced the younger drell's chin up with one finger. "I understand your frustration, as well as your mistaken assumption that they were the same vid, they _did_ have the same opening sequence. But let me ask you this: what was different about the room from before the hanar entered, and after? No," Teacher placed one hand over Thane's eyes, blocking his vision of the metal room they hadn't quite managed to exit, "use your memory."

Once again, Thane shuffled through his memories at the request of another, "Nothing. Nothing is different. There's the table, the vid, the smaller tables with the weapons…You're hiding in the corner, behind the Eldest. But there is no difference."

Thane heard an amused rumble from his master, a deep sound that vibrated his chest and made him relax a little involuntarily. With his eyes blinded, his Teacher sounded like Father. "Look again," Teacher said, removing his hand from Thane's eyes.

Obediently, Thane looked around the room, and saw all the things he'd missed. Hidden amongst all the weapons on the tables were little blank spaces that hadn't been there before. Small knives of various shapes and sized were gone, hidden by the shadows cast by the larger weapons left in place. "What-? How?" Thane gasped.

Teacher smiled, "While you were busy watching the hanar file out, I wandered around the room, snatching weapons. Where did you think the knife I threw at you came from?"

"I…thought it was yours," Thane stuttered, amazed at the things he hadn't seen.

Teacher shook his head, "Mine are sharp, Squalo. Remember this about our memories, we can perfectly recall what we experience, it is true. But only things that we take specific note of are recalled in detail. When you looked around the room the first time, you noted the tables only as 'metal tables with weapons' not which weapons were on it. That was why you didn't see the difference; there were still weapons on the table."

"I did not know." Thane spoke in a hushed tone. "I thought we just remembered everything."

Teacher chuckled deep in his chest, "now you know. Your memory will be both a great asset and a burden for you in the years to come, but you have an advantage over many others because of it. You already remember everything you experience now you must simply learn how to _notice_ everything as well."

It was a lesson Thane would never forget.


	2. Chapter 2

Thane panted heavily, dry breaths flowing quickly in and out of his lungs. The obstacle course he was running had been designed by no fewer than five species, and his mind exalted with every new challenge. He was most of the way through the course now, and moving fast. He'd just completed the section designed by the asari, something he'd not managed before this day, and was high on the thrill. If his assumptions were correct, all he had left was the section designed by the salarians. It would be the first time he finished the obstacle course for the first time since he began his training six years ago.

Climbing over the last wall, Thane turned around and slowly lowered himself into the shadows of a stand of trees, clinging at last to the wall with nothing but his fingertips.

Holding his breath, Thane released his grip and fell the last few inches, exhaling gently as he bent his knees, absorbing the force and sound of his fall. Ducking down out of sight, he studied his memory of the brief glimpse he'd gotten of the area in front of him.

He was huddled in the corner of a compound, a small cove of trees shielding him from view, so long as he maintained the near perfect stillness that had been trained into him. Ahead was a small metal building with a bright red roof perched inside what appeared to be a clearing in the woods. Two, possibly three Loki mechs patrolled the perimeter of the building. A chimney puffed the slightest amount of smoke, and there was ionization in the air from a biotic barrier that he experienced as a bitter taste on his tongue.

Deciding that he had gleaned all of the information from the scene that he could, Thane began to creep around the perimeter of the area. Perhaps another angle would afford him the necessary information to determine the goal of this particular test.

He moved carefully, testing each footstep before putting weight on it. Steps weren't taken with any discernable pattern; he took care to move at unpredictable times, to reduce the appearance of a man shaped form moving through the foliage.

Eventually, he found a spot so perfect for observing the building and its surroundings, that he instantly became suspicious. Retreating to a more camouflaged position, one that didn't have nearly the view, but held much more protection from watchful eyes, Thane trained his gaze, not on the building, but on the 'perfect' hiding spot that had made him so nervous.

After several minutes of careful study, his skin crawling like sand had gotten under his scales, he finally realized what it was that bothered him so. A pair of eyes, almost completely concealed by the foliage, stared out at him from the shadows of the hiding spot. He'd been almost on top of them before he'd retreated.

So, this was the salarian's test - a game of predator and prey in the trees with another assassin.

He was contemplating his next move when a shiver of fear raced down his spine, for to his left, where it hadn't been minutes before; a white piece of paper had been pinned to a tree with an assassin's knife.

A very familiar assassin's knife.

Thane slipped his hand down his leg to his boot, eyes darting back and forth between the paper and the eyes. Sure enough, the knife was gone - taken by an unseen person and pinned to a tree mere feet away from him, without him seeing or feeling a thing.

Tracing the empty hole where his knife should have been with one finger, Thane couldn't help but be impressed with the speed and skill of his shadowy thief. Even reviewing his memories, he was unsure when the knife had been taken.

He'd lost round one, if the Shadow-thief had wanted him out of the game he undoubtedly would be. Thane rose cautiously into a crouch, intending to go for the paper. Glancing back at the eyes, he was unsurprised to discover that they were gone.

Slipping over to the note, Thane retrieved his dagger and saw it safely back into his boot before reading the careful script.

**Target is in the house, and knows you are coming**.

There was an arrow pointing down. Thane strangled a deep rumble of amusement before it could escape and give him away. There in the tall grass at the base of the tree was his sniper rifle. He'd not been allowed a gun of any type on the other courses. He picked it up out of the grass and checked it over before slinging it onto his back and waited for the brief tingle of the silenced holster that would tell him it was secure. So be it.

Knowing the Shadow-thief was there only inspired Thane to move more quickly and quietly than he had before. Chances were, now that he knew the rules of the game, the Other would be moving in to take out his target. Like all of the other challenges, this one tested him in more than one way. They wanted him to be the best.

To be perfect.

Thane reviewed what he knew of salarian behavior as he moved through the trees. Medium height, but spindly musculature left the salarians as difficult targets to hit long range. A headshot was best achieved by aiming for the center of the flat, elongated head and close quarters combat argued for a quick punch to the rib cage. With his naturally denser bone mass and muscle structure, he could hit the heart without damaging anything more than a few scales.

If this salarian was typical of the species, he would call his mechs into the house one by one to do a maintenance check before he went to sleep. His paranoia would let him do nothing else. But he would have to open the door to let them in.

Scrambling up the branches of a tree, Thane braced himself against the trunk and pulled out his rifle, feeling it expand silently in his hands. A quick system check later, and he was peering though the sighs at the door. Sunset was maybe an hour away; the salarian would move soon.

Twenty minutes later, Thane smiled in satisfaction as he saw one of the Loki mechs pause in its patrol and head for the house. Carefully regulating his breathing, Thane trained his rifle three quarters of the way up the door and slightly to the right of center. Just where a careless salarian would stand when he opened the door.

Thane almost cursed when the door opened, but the salarian remained out of sight, hidden behind the wall as the mech stepped over the threshold. It was the same when the door reopened. The mech came out and the door closed. No sign of the salaraian.

Again the door opened for mech to enter, and again Thane was denied a shot. He could feel a growl beginning deep in his throat, and he viciously cut it off. He would not fail this test! As the last mech entered, Thane slipped from the branches of the tree and approached the Structure. This target was too smart - he would never reveal himself when he opened the door. This required a more hands-on approach. It was a more technically challenging and risky proposition than sitting in the tree, but the only one that would get the job done now.

Creeping cautiously closer, Thane listened carefully for the faint hum of the biotic barrier he had detected earlier, but heard nothing. The Shadow-thief had likely disabled it in their approach. That meant they were closer to the target than he was, possibly inside the house already. He needed to move faster.

Reaching the door Thane placed his left hand against it, gently resting just his fingertips against the wood. Leaning his head foreword, he heard muffled grunts and clangs as the target checked the mech's systems. Using the sounds to locate the target within the room, Thane slid his hand down the door to rest just above the door activation key. With the biotic barrier down, the chances that the rest of the security protocols were active were slim, especially with the Shadow-thief after his target as well. He hesitated, rechecking his calculations on the salarian's location within the room. He would have only one chance to take the target out before he lost the element of surprise. He could only hope that he'd moved fast enough, and that the mech was still in maintenance mode. Otherwise, he may just enter the room to face a spray of bullets. Not a good way to end this training exercise.

Hefting his sniper rifle in one hand, Thane wished briefly for a pistol. The salarian was too far into the room for close quarters combat, so he would have to shoot him. But firing a sniper rifle from short range was difficult at best; he wouldn't be able to use his scope.

Steeling himself for action, Thane moved his hand down the last inch, activating the door. Bringing his weapon up, he braced the end of it against his shoulder, his left hand grasping the familiar barrel. Taking two steps into the room, Thane located his target exactly where he was supposed to be, hunched over the disabled form of the last loki mech. He could just make out the ends of the head fringe. Anticipation coursed through him as he saw the unarmed form of the Shadow-thief slink into the main room from some room in the back. The Shadow-thief was an asari, and she was obviously intending to take out the target with her bare hands. If he could get the salarian to raise his head from where it was hidden behind the mech, then he would be able to take the target out from across the room. Then he would complete the final challenge on his first try.

The door slid shut behind him, and the soft sound had the salarian raising his head into the space Thane was aiming his gun. Anticipation changed swiftly to surprise, as the face that appeared was neither male, nor salarian. It was an asari. How could he have been so foolish? The note had only said that the target was in the building. He had assumed that it would be a salarian because this test was designed by the salarians. A potentially costly mistake.

Another being would have had their aim thrown off because of the shock, but Thane was being trained by the best, and his body knew its job, even as his mind reeled. A tiny shift from the nose to the patch of skin between the eyebrows, and Thane's body was pulling the trigger as he exhaled into the shot. Perfect form.

That was when Thane received his second shock. His rifle had been loaded with live rounds. All his life his Teacher had been careful to ensure that the look and weight of his non-lethal weapons were the same as ones that were. As far as Teacher knew, he'd succeeded. But when he fired his rifle on the practice range, Thane had long since noticed a barely perceptible difference in the kickback of the rifle when loaded with the different rounds. Thane was certain the asari would die.

His eyes were open as he fired, proper form, so he was watching as the bullet put a small, perfect hole right through that patch of skin. The light and life in those eyes was dead before the body hit the floor. Beyond, he caught a glimpse of the Shadow-thief's dismayed expression as he stole her kill from her.

Her kill.

Thane had killed.

Once again, Thane's mind was reeling - this time with the knowledge of what he'd done. He'd always known what he was training to do, but so long as the lessons continued and the bullets were non-lethal, the fact that he was training to be an _assassin_ seemed somehow a far-off dream.

His body knew what to do, silently folding up the rifle and attaching it to his back before activating the door and exiting, worming his way through the brush back towards where he'd entered to copse of trees. It wasn't until he was greeted with the flashing lights of the elder hanar, and the grim but approving look of his Teacher, that he came back to himself.

The hanar was speaking, but it wasn't any specific combination of words, just a soothing cascade of blues and greens, with the barest hint of violet. Eventually, they resolved into recognizable patterns.

"This one is proud of you, Mr. Krios," it said to him, "it regrets the necessity of your training, but must tell you that you have done amazingly well. Today you have passed the last of your tests. You must never rejoice in death, but it is acceptable to be pleased with a job completed. Today, you are an assassin. Well done."

The hanar turned and walked away leaving a shell shocked Thane alone with his Teacher. The older drell approached, dropped to his knees, and pulled Thane into a fierce hug. "Hold this memory," he told Thane, "hold on to it tight. Today is the first time you killed, and you did it with skill and precision. All other kills should be compared with this one. Do not hesitate, do not fear, and most of all remember mercy. No matter whom it is that you are commissioned to kill, do it with mercy."

He pulled back and looked his young student in the face, unsurprised at the tears that had gathered, but refused to fall, "you have done well. The hanar are pleased. And so am I."

"Teacher," Thane managed with a weak voice. "Who was she?"

Teacher looked at him solemnly for a long moment. "A mark. She believed she'd been brought here to be kept safe, never knowing she'd been put in a trap. I am sorry we had to deceive you, but it was a necessary deception to ensure that you didn't hesitate when you took your first contract. An assassin can't afford to hesitate. It can cause you to fail in your mission, or to bring a slow death to your target because of a faulty shot. Neither is acceptable. Remember: one shot, one kill."

"Yes, Teacher." Thane bowed to him, "What happens now?"

"Now?" Teacher smiled. "Now it's time to go off world. I have a job for you."

Years passed, and Thane's skills as an assassin increased. He met up with his Shadow-thief on another mission. The hanar that had hired him had apparently bought the services of another, unwilling to believe that a drell so young could take care of the job.

This time, he bested the Shadow-thief, an asari maiden who had chosen to kill from afar, rather than use the biotics her people were so famous for. When the kill had been made and his prayers completed, Thane approached the shadows where she lingered. Experience had granted him what training had not, and he'd easily picked her out of her hiding place as he'd worked around her to reach the target first. Stopping just far enough away that she would be uncertain as to whether or not he knew where she was, Thane let a mischievous smile creep onto his face, and let an amused rumble rise to the surface, just as he sent the knife flashing towards her with a flick of his wrist.

Nothing but her eyes moved as the knife vibrated in the wall next to her head, but those eyes were filled with surprise. Leaving the smile on his face, Thane bowed slightly, wrists held away from his body in a gesture of respect. Her answering smile was as brief as her nod. One master would always appreciate another.

He had a few encounters with other assassins after that. Though assassins were a solitary sort as a general rule, he nonetheless came to recognize a few of them, if not by sight, by reputation. Many years passed more contracts were completed. At some point he started being referred to as the best assassin in the galaxy, and he wondered how that had happened. But the thought was vague and fleeting, his mind having long since entered battle sleep, waking only if he saw a particularly beautiful image. A sunset through a visor, or a rare bird perched on a leaf. At such times, his hand would itch and his heart would start to fill with a strange longing. But the moment would inevitably pass, and his consciousness would subside, leaving his body to do what it did best.

Then came the day when he saw his wife for the first time, Irikah.

Things changed after that. She drew him out of his battle sleep and reintroduced him to the wonder of life. It wasn't long after their son was born that he got the news, he was sick. Kepral's Syndrome. Incurable.

Irikah cried for hours. Thane held her as both their worlds fell apart. While in battle sleep, he'd not cared for himself as he should have. Too many jobs taken in humid climates, too much time between preventative treatments. There was a fungus living in his lungs now, and it would slowly drown him. Transplants were an option, but that would only delay the inevitable. He was dead.

And now, so was Irikah. He'd been away on a mission, killing the leader of a merc band, when the message came. It was the Shadow-thief who delivered it. Of all the assassins he knew personally, an admittedly short list, she was the closest to being called a friend. He knew it was she by the way the message was delivered: a slip of paper, pinned to the back of his door with a boot knife. One of his previous targets' allies had paid the Shadow Broker for his name. Then, scared to take him on, they'd paid for the names of his family.

His house was already clean when he'd made it home, no sign of struggle or trauma. Or so they thought. But to Thane, a man trained in the skills of noticing minutiae, the changes were glaring and spoke of an attack that was vicious in the extreme.

The door jam was new – they'd broken in. A black smoke smudge on the back of the stove meant that was where she was when the attack occurred. He traveled the house, reading the differences and telling the story.

She had run from the kitchen into the living room, throwing the vase he'd bought her at the attackers to stall them. She'd tripped over something on the rug, or maybe the rug itself, and had thrown the small end table at them as well. He followed the path of broken or missing objects through the house.

He found where she had died.

When her family arrived hours later to collect some of his son's things, they found him there staring at the last place his Irikah had been alive. His siha.

The funeral was brutal. After, he left his son in the care of his Aunt and went after her killers. They were the first kills he did without a contract. They were also the first he enjoyed. When he was done, many bad men were dead, and the galaxy was a little brighter.

He returned to his son, only to see him much changed. Years had passed as he had sought vengeance for Irikah. Kolyat was older…happier. He left his son in the hands of those not stained with blood.

Thane Krios went back to sleep.

Until the day a dead woman came after him and breathed life into his dying body.


	3. Chapter 3

Thane struggled with himself as the shuttle went thought the final preparation stages for lift off. He'd taken the majority of the money he and Irikah had saved and given it to Irikah's sister. She was the one who had taken on the task of caring for six-year-old Kolyat when Irikah had been killed. Of course, it had been eight years since then, and a large portion of the money had already been spent on bribes to find Irikah's killers. Even so, a significant amount of money remained; enough that Kolyat's new family wouldn't ever need to work again, so long as they were frugal. Being an assassin paid well when you were the best.

He'd kept a small amount for himself, traveling expenses to get him off Kahje and out of Kolyat's life. He longed to stay, to be near the last bit of Irikah he had left, but he dared not. Kolyat was happy with is Aunt, and much safer. His name had been changed, and not even the Shadow Broker would give out his new identity, so long as Thane stayed out of his life.

Still, he longed to stay, just the same. To be there when his son went to college. To help him when his heart got broken for the first time. To support him in whatever profession he chose.

But Thane knew nothing of such things.

He knew more than forty ways to kill the more than a dozen sentient species in the galaxy, most of them so intimately that it was a matter of instinct, but he had nothing to offer his son except money, and a future that would be brighter and safer without him in it.

And so, he left.

To a drell, the roar of the engines as they broke the bonds of gravity and headed for the sky sounded infinitely sad.

ooOO00OOoo

Thane could not suppress the rumble of unhappiness that flowed out from him as he entered his safe house. He had dozens of them scattered all over the galaxy, ranging from small bolt holes designed to help him disappear for an hour or two, to the bigger ones like this, designed to house him for months as he stalked his next target. Each of his hideaways had a stash of money, cleverly hidden. No self-respecting assassin would have a bank account or would take out a line of credit. Whatever area he was in, he touched only lightly; he left no trace of himself, in all things.

For the first time in his life, Thane had no purpose. No goal. Before Irikah, he had worked for the hanar, directing his hands as they willed. After, he freelanced, taking on contracts to fill his time and bring in money. Then, there was vengeance…and now? Emptiness. All he knew how to do was kill; his time was growing short. When he'd first been diagnosed with Kepral's he'd agreed to the transplant, when one came available. At the time, he'd still had a wife and child to live for. While on the shuttle, he'd received a private message - his name was next on the list for transplants, and it was time for the surgery. Would he please give them his location so a hospital close to both the he and the lungs could be determined? They would not remain viable forever. He'd responded with a negative. He had nothing to give, and there were others far more deserving of the treatment than him. Let another live, Kalahira would come for her servant. Would that she had taken him with Irikah!

Moving across the room, Thane deposited his items in their designated areas. Some were staged for quick retrieval, others designed as traps for the unwary. He lived by the edge of his paranoia. Finally settling himself on the small couch, he picked up the remote and turned the news on. A reporter was in the middle of an interview with a woman named Commander Shepard. Apparently, she had been made a spectre the week before.

"The first human spectre," Thane rumbled with amusement. "Less than fifty years after they've become members of the galactic community, and all they can say is 'it's about time'."

The new spectre was well-spoken, but obviously a soldier, not a politician. The reporter was making her look like a fool; all the while pulling out bits of information that probably shouldn't be shared. The public did not need to know that her first mission was tracking down a rogue spectre – how embarrassing for the Council – named Seren who was working with the geth and was responsible for the attack on Eden Prime. That spectre had just made her job harder on herself. A target that knows you are coming is always more difficult to take down than one who is unwary. Thane shrugged philosophically as the reporter finished the interview, leaving a startled and still spluttering spectre in her wake. He sent a prayer to Amonkira that her hunt would be successful. It seemed that she would need it.

Thane watched the news for the rest of the day, mentally cataloguing things of interest. The Shadow-thief had struck again; her victims were always found in dark places, under a desk, or hidden in the darkest corner of the room. She wasn't hiding them – they'd never be found if she was – it was a subtle calling card, designed for those who knew how to look.

The Snake had struck as well. Another drell assassin, he was either not as well-trained or not as skilled at body control as Thane. He was always leaving scales behind on a job. With all that DNA left behind, it was a wonder that he hadn't been caught yet. He would be; it was only a matter of time.

More news scrolled by. A serial killer on the citadel left C-SEC baffled. Pirates roamed the terminus systems, beyond the control or care of the Citatel. Omega was filled with the wicked and Illium hid injustices behind reams of paperwork. For all his efforts, the galaxy was still as dark and dangerous as it had ever been.

Perhaps that was why Kalahira hadn't called him yet? There was still much that could be done. Thane felt the edges of his lips curl up in a smile as a pleased rumble filled his chest. He checked the clock, if the times for the shuttles hadn't changed in the last six months, he had two hours before the next flight to the Citadel. His rumble swelled to fill the room as he gathered his things and a bit of money from his stash.

Amonkira be praised - the hunt was on.

ooOO00OOoo

The serial killer had been dealt with, and the terminus systems were a lot emptier than they had been. Thane found himself in the uncomfortable position of trying to hide bodies, it wasn't something he'd had to do before.

When working for the Hanar, he'd left them out in the open on purpose; media coverage granted additional conformation that the job was done, which his clients appreciated, even though they would never be so rude as to ask for it. To do so would be tantamount to calling him a liar, and no hanar would ever willingly make such a beach of etiquette.

When hunting Irikah's killers, he'd left the bodies in the open as a message: _I am coming_.

But now that he took work for himself? It seemed best that his work – and the bodies it produced – stayed hidden. He was inexperienced, however, and careless at body disposal, he was almost caught multiple times. The last, he was saved by the timely intervention of an old friend.

"Shadow-thief!" Thane called with relief once the danger had passed, "your interruption is most appreciated."

He bowed to her, gratefully respectful, a smile stretching his cheeks as she returned the gesture.

"Ghost," she said, returning the greeting. They had never swapped names, and never would. "You've gotten sloppy."

Thane felt his neck ridges darkening in embarrassment, and he rubbed the fused middle fingers of his hands together, a nervous gesture he'd never managed to rid himself of. "I am afraid that you are correct."

She laughed and stepped closer. Turning her body to the side a bit, she gestured with one hand back the way she had come, "Walk with me?"

"Most certainly," he replied, closing the distance between them.

They walked for a time in silence. By mutual agreement, they headed for the local garden area. Few people would be there this time of night; they could talk safely.

As they passed the line of trees, Shadow-thief cast a quick glance at Ghost. Taking in his polite, but carefully-controlled countenance, she was once again reminded that in the twenty or so years that he had been active, he had far outstripped her in both talent and ability. His recent body hiding troubles aside, he had well and truly earned the title of "Most Skilled Assassin in the Galaxy". Faced with that knowledge, she found it hard to broach the topic she had come to speak of. So she picked something else.

"Freelancing again?" she teased, "If you're going to begin hiding bodies, maybe I should stick around. Teach you a few tricks. It's obvious you don't know what you're doing."

A bald-faced lie, of course. She could tell by the single raised eye ridge and the upturned corner of his mouth that he knew it. 'Trouble hiding bodies' meant that they were found three months later, with no determinable cause of death, and no leads. The only reason he'd been in trouble tonight was because a pair of turians who were wandering home drunk had interrupted him. Had they been allowed a good look at his face, they would have been able to identify him. She'd distracted them long enough for Ghost to escape.

Still, his voice was grave as he responded, "I would appreciate any help you would give me, Master."

Delighted that he played along, Shadow-thief flashed him a quick grin before falling into character, "very well." She sniffed, "the first thing you must consider when going after your target is what you will do with the body when you are done. It must be part of your plans from the beginning."

"Yes, Master," Ghost said meekly.

Shadow-thief shot a glance his way, but was unable to read his expression. "You are able to sneak around corners and through vents, no problem. But will your target fit back through those same vents? Probably not. That means that your exit strategy must be different…and account for the additional burden of a corpse."

Thane listened politely as the Shadow-thief talked, filing her words away for future reference. All jokes aside, she gave him over a dozen different ways to hide or dispose of bodies, some of which he'd thought of, but hadn't perfected, and some which hadn't occurred to him. Still others were partial plans, designed to be incomplete so they could be adapted as needed. She wasn't stingy, but freely gave of her knowledge, he was extremely grateful. Such trust between colleagues of their ilk was extremely rare. He gave her the only gift he could in return.

"You humble me with your words," Ghost said as Shadow-thief ceased to speak. "All I have to offer in return is this: should you ever have need of me, call, and I will come."

Shadow-thief gave him a smile. "That has great value. The greatest assassin in the galaxy at my beck and call." She touched him lightly on the arm with the tips of two fingers, "Come, friend. Eat with me. I'll pay, and you can tell me about your son."

ooOO00OOoo

Thane continued to keep one eye on the news and one on his latest target, even as his mind drifted off into sleep. By the time Sovereign made his attack on the Citadel, he had once again absorbed himself in his work to the exclusion of all else. Two years later, Thane answered the call from the Shadow-thief.

"Thank you for coming, Ghost," she said softly into the shadows where he stood.

Thane made no response as he studied Shadow-thief where she sat in a pool of sunlight. The irony was not lost on him. In just two years, she had changed drastically. He had known for a while that her Matron stage was approaching, but between his sickness and her long life, he never expected to see her enter it.

But there she was, pregnant, and sitting on a park bench; talking to a man cloaked in shadow. Somehow, it made him feel old.

She took no offence to his extended silence; she knew how she looked. "As you can see, things have changed quite a bit in the years since we last spoke. I've got a mate now, and a good job as a security consultant. Who better to keep out assassins than a former assassin?"

"I see I have you to thank for the increased security." Thane rumbled.

"Still beat it though, didn't you? That approach," she shook her head in amazement, "I still don't know how you did it. Everyone thinks it was an inside job. I'm the only one who knows better, and I won't talk. Bad for business."

Thane remained silent, waiting for her request. After a time, Shadow-thief began to shift about uncomfortably in her seat. "Were you always this quiet?" She eventually blurted out.

He stood in the shadows, a mischievous smile that she couldn't see playing on his lips. He hadn't been playing mute before…

A few seconds later, Shadow-thief let out a strangled sound, somewhere between a huff and a laugh, "I suppose I asked for that," she muttered before straightening in her seat and speaking with more force. "I asked you here to do me a favor. You once said that if I ever needed you, I should call."

She peered intently into the shadows of his hiding spot, as if seeking confirmation of his promise from him. Thane took a half step foreword, revealing more of his form to her before nodding his head once. Yes, he had promised.

Nodding her head quickly in response, Shadow-thief continued, "One of my old associates, one that I owe a favor to, has contacted me. They asked me to do a job, pro bono. As you can see," she gestured to her pregnant belly. "I can't do jobs right now. And I really wouldn't want to anyway, I'm retired." Shadow-thief sighed and sat back, trying to find the softest part of the bench, "I tried explaining to my contact that I was no longer in active duty, and physically unable to do the work. Of course, that didn't matter. I owed them, and I had to get the job done. I asked if I could bring in outside help, and they agreed. Considering the nature of the favor they did me, it's more than generous." She peered up at him again.

Thane stifled a sigh. So easy to see where this was going. "Who is the target, Shadow-thief?"

"Nassana Dantius, on Illium. She's a shrewd businesswoman who uses harsh tactics to get, and stay, on top. She is cruel, even by Illium's standards. I have here the starting information my client gave me, and I've expanded it with what little I know of the area. Feel free to double check; it's been a few years since I was there." Shadow-thief held up her omni-tool, requesting to link with his. Once the transfer was complete, she settled her hands back into her lap, cradling her belly. "I appreciate you doing this, Ghost. With this done, all of my debts will be cleared. I'll be free to live without worrying that my past will come back to haunt me. I'll probably still worry, though."

"A wise choice." Thane said.

His voice startled her a bit, as if she'd expected him to be gone. "I don't expect you to do this for free, you know; it must have cost a lot of credits just to get here. I can't afford your normal fee, but –"

Thane held up a hand and she stuttered into silence. Clasping his hands behind his back, he drew his elbows together, adopting his military pose, "credits are not expected."

"But—"

Thane shook his head, "As you owe your contact, so I owe you. No fee." Before she could protest again, Thane emerged from the shadows and approached Shadow-thief where she sat. Lowering himself gracefully to one knee, he placed one hand on the growing child inside her womb. "Live well, Sereenya," he raised his eyes to the mother, "and you as well, Leilah, live well. You will not see me again. Look to the news to see the job is done."

Leilah let out a gasp of surprise. He knew her name! How long-! But he was gone. Before she could even think of a response, he was gone. But still…she wasn't worried. If there was one thing she had learned about Ghost, it was that he kept his promises. Nassana Dantius would die, and her future and that of her child was secure. She thought back to his last words. What had he called her daughter? Sereenya. A lovely name.

ooOO00OOoo

Thane viewed the information Leilah had given him. Nassana Dantius, an asari Matron, three hundred sixty-three years old. Formerly a senator on the Citadel, she had recently given up her post and started a business on Illium – placing indentured servants. Her contracts were harsh, with many loopholes for her that allowed longer working hours and smaller pay for those individuals whose contracts she had yet to sell. She was building two interconnected buildings on Illium dubbed the Dantius towers, using her indentured servants as unskilled workers. One of the towers was complete, and she lived in a penthouse at the top.

He lowered the datapad and settled back into the shuttle seat. He would be on Illium in a few days. Hopefully, he could get his research done within a few weeks. Maybe she left the towers to do shopping… if so, he could hit her without going into the towers. He called up the schematics of the towers again, studying them for anything he had missed.

The single completed tower was a fortress; Nassana clearly had protection in mind when she commissioned its design. Each of the levels had as open a floor plan as could be allowed; reducing the corners he could hide in. There were no stairs, and the air ducts were tiny. The only way up or down was an elevator that spanned three floors at most, with choke points at either end. Then it was a long trip down a featureless hallway before another choke point and elevator.

He was glad Leilah had passed the job onto him, because while it was possible to get into the penthouse, by traveling up through the building still under construction and then passing over a connecting bridge, there was no return trip. In several places, he would have to ruin his path backwards to make one forward. It was a suicide mission. Appropriate for a dead man.

ooOO00OOoo

Thane spent several days watching the construction of the towers and observing the traffic patterns around its base.

The first thing he noted was that even though the cars had the ability to fly high enough to actually land on the roof of the building, none ever went past the second floor. A quick look through the sniper scope showed why: starting at halfway up the completed tower, mercenaries were stationed on every other level, surface-to-air rocket launchers clutched in their hands. Given the level of security already built into the towers, the addition of bazooka-wielding mercs seemed a bit excessive. Word was, Nassana Dantius had stepped on a lot of toes to get to the top of her shiny new penthouse, most of them family. Now, she was expecting payback. Thane felt his lips stretch into a feral grin, and a deep predatory growl came to life in his chest. Vengeance had indeed come.

Ultimately, Thane found someone willing to talk to him about the interior of the building. An asari named Seryna gave him all the information he needed, but not without getting something in return. He offered money – even now he was not poor – but she waved it off, saying she would not be bought. All she wanted, she said, was to know the name of the man who would finally bring an end to Nassana Dantius.

Under most circumstances, this was an outrageous request. Never does an assassin give out their identity when on a job. His codename had been Ghost for years now, and in some ways, he was more comfortable with it than the name he was born with. To share his true name would be an incredible risk. The Shadow Broker had eyes and agents everywhere. But that was her price, and she would not budge…and this was a suicide mission, anyway. He would not be coming back. Giving his name would not compromise Kolyat, and he wouldn't be around to suffer any personal consequences.

He told her.

She was surprised.

"Thane Krios?" She said with a blink, "as in, T. Krios the painter? I have one of your paintings; it was a gift from a friend. It's beautiful."

Abruptly confronted with what had once been his personal life while on professional business, Thane shifted uncomfortably, relaxing his military stance to bring his hands around and rub his fused middle fingers together.

"I- do not paint anymore. Not since…" Irikah.

"A shame," she said. "Your brushwork is amazing."

He managed to get the conversation back on track and find out what he wanted to know before beating a hasty retreat.

The night before his last day, Thane Krios spent his time in prayer and meditation and with his memories of happier times with Irikah and Kolyat. There weren't as many of those as he would have liked. When the sun was still a few hours away from rising, he moved. Thane gathered up the few items he would be bringing with him, namely some knives and a small flashlight. No guns or projectile weapons would be coming with him.

He'd eventually decided on a small pathway created by a series of drainage pipes and ventilation shafts. Some of the corners he had to navigate were treacherously sharp, and his sniper rifle would never make it. A pistol possibly could, if he pushed it down the tube ahead of him but – no. Some of those tight spaces were vertical drops. No way to hold on to it there – the pistol would have to stay behind as well.

He stroked each gun once, lovingly, before he left. They were old friends that had been with him through everything. Everything but the end.

Then, he walked away.

ooOO00OOoo

Author's Note: So, I was ORIGINALLY planning on waiting a few days before posting chapter three, _but_…you have Kalenel to thank for the next chapter today. She sent me the sweetest private message, and I was so humbled by it, I had to get the next chapter out immediately. This one's for you, Hun!


	4. Chapter 4

For the first six years of his life, Thane Krios had swum freely in the waters of Kahje, bound only by the breather fitted over his mouth and nose. Because of this, one of the hardest lessons he'd had to learn was how to judge the spaces he could fit his body into, and then do it. Long ago, he'd learned that if his head fit, so would the rest of him. Some spaces simply took more effort than others.

Looking down at the small, round drainage pipe with its slow dribble of water, Thane couldn't help but think that this would take quite a bit of effort indeed. He was lucky that it was low to the ground, as it would give his legs the purchase they needed to force his shoulders out of their sockets and through the hole. Putting them back in was a matter of breath, limb placement, and muscle control.

Thane grunted involuntarily as they slid back into place. And, oh yes, there was no small amount of pain to doing it this way. He lay in the metal tubing for a few minutes, waiting for the pain to recede a bit before moving on. There was no reason to rush; he would do this right.

As he breathed shallowly through the pain, even beyond the tiny entrance to where the pipe began to expand there just _wasn't_ enough space, he punched the little button on the end of the flashlight he held in his mouth with his tongue. A small, simple device, its design originally heralded from Earth, the homeland of the humans, and Thane couldn't help but applaud its simplicity. It did what it was intended to do with no extraneous bells or whistles. Sublime.

Turning his head as much as he was able to in the cramped space, Thane prodded the end of the light with his tongue. His eyes rolled in his head to follow the yellow light as he aimed it around like a spotlight at the walls and shaft ahead. Satisfied that things were as they should be, Thane stretched his legs out, his toes catching the mesh cover for the pipe and pulling it back into place. His soft, flexible climbing boots were good for more than traversing vents.

Though the boots were good for that as well, he was moving through the tunnel at an acceptable pace under the force of nothing but his feet and calves. The vent was much too small for him to be able to bring his arms up into a useful position. His legs would certainly hurt by the time he finished the mission – he shrugged it off philosophically. In a few hours, the pain building in his legs would be irrelevant.

In short order, Thane encountered the first of three vertical shafts he would have to climb. He kept pushing until his head emerged into the pipe. He paused to appreciate the sensation of being in a larger space. Intellectually, he knew that the new pipe was only slightly bigger than the last, but with both of his eyelids closed it didn't seem so. After a brief respite, he began pushing with his toes again, curling his body upwards with powerful torso muscles until he had emerged far enough to bring his hands up and brace them on either side of the tube. He took another short rest, sitting awkwardly with his legs still inside the smaller tube while his core muscles and arms kept his top half vertical in the shaft.

Clicking the light off, Thane carefully balanced his weight on one arm and brought the other up to his mouth to claim the light before slipping it into a hidden flap on his jacket. Then he began to move.

Traveling up the smooth walls of the shaft required enormous strength, strength that he had honed into his body with years of training. He moved with three-point precision, always three of his limbs pressing into the walls while the fourth moved upwards. There was something primal about using all four limbs to travel, about knowing that he would never survive without all of his extremities moving in concert. His ancestors long ago had traveled on four limbs, and he felt himself slipping farther into battle-sleep as he connected with the most ancient and primal part of himself. Nothing else mattered but the pull of gravity, the movement of his limbs, and the woman who was his destination.

As he moved, he counted in his head. He wouldn't be able to take the aqueduct forever; it terminated inside the building four floors up at a water purification site, the first of many the complex's water would pass through before being considered safe for general consumption. He was simply fortunate that the water had not been turned on yet for this tower. It was the only way in.

Finding the spot he was looking for, Thane once again balanced himself on three points while he retrieved his flashlight. Placing it so the light was pointed down his throat, Thane gripped the end in his teeth and twisted. Feeling the silent click, he removed the flashlight from his mouth and placed it against the metal in front of him. Closing his inner eyelids, Thane held it firmly in his hand and punched the button. What emerged from the end of the 'flashlight' now was a beam of light so strong that it was truly a laser, and it bit into the metal beautifully.

He cut a fairly large hole in the pipe, being generous with the size. He would need plenty of space to perform his next maneuver. Stashing away his flashlight, Thane pushed the excised bit of metal free, listening carefully until he heard it hit the floor with a clang.

Bracketing his hands on either side of the hole as close to the edge as he could manage without running the risk of hurting himself on the sharp ridge left behind, he braced his feet on the opposite wall from his hands, feet together, knees bent. He crouched, a precarious position to hold for any length of time. Then he leapt, collapsing his arms to his chest, even as his legs pushed and propelled him through the hole before gravity took over and he ducked his head into a roll as he hit the ground. He followed it through into a crouch, eyes staring into the gloom of the abandoned maintenance bay for any unexpected items or traps. Finding none, he moved toward the oval piece of metal and fitted it back over the hole, using the flashlight to weld it into place. A few dabs of putty to smooth the metal back out, and a spritz from a substance that would match the color of the metal and… voila. Unblemished pipe. Perfection was in the details. Let them wonder how he got in.

As he finished the patch job, Thane heard voices arguing a few rooms away. Curious, he crept closer. Perhaps they were guards. If they were, their location would tell him what part of their pattern of patrol they were in. Valuable information.

Keeping to the shadows, he moved forwards, cautiously peeking around the corner. Nassana's guards, indeed – and they were harassing some of the salarian workers, yelling what were probably demands and waving their guns around threateningly. But with their full-face helmets on, their words were garbled and harsh. The salarians clearly didn't understand.

Then one of the mercs leveled off his gun and began to fire. Two of the salarians were dead before Thane managed to cross the distance between them. Even moving fast, he was still stealthy and quiet, sneaking up behind one of the mercs – a human – and snapping his neck with ease. He stripped the pistol from the dead man's hand before it had even hit the ground. Three well-placed shots later, and the salarians were safe.

When the gunfire abruptly ceased, and the bodies had hit the ground with muffled thumps, the salarians peeked their heads cautiously out of hiding. There were only two of them left. He had already retreated to a dark corner; they would not be able to see him well.

"W-who are you?" the braver of the two called.

"You should not be here," Thane responded. "It is not safe."

They shared a fearful glance. "What do you want with us?" The same one spoke again.

Thane scanned the room: there, a small security closet. They would be safe inside. He moved towards them, keeping to the shadows. They both stood up with a gasp, backing away from him in fear. Good, that would make this easier.

"You are not safe here," he said again, moving towards them. Herding them towards the closet, "you should leave." Only they couldn't leave. There were four floors full of mercs between them and safety. Their only hope was this closet.

The salarians continued to back away, fear short-circuiting their brains so that they didn't realize what had happened until he closed the door on them. Using his omni-tool, Thane jammed the protocol's lock. Hopefully it would be a few hours before they managed to undo the scramble. By then it would all be over.

Bringing his stolen pistol up, Thane began to advance through the building. It was good to be armed again, even if it was with a substandard weapon. He heard more shots ring out across the building and he sent a prayer up to Arashu to keep the workers safe. Cries and screams made him move faster, disregarding his own subtlety in the hopes of reaching them in time.

He failed.

More salarians were dead, five this time, and Thane struggled with himself as he watched the mercs saunter off. Part of him wished to gun them down, to avenge the salarians, but he could not. His skills were meant for another. He paused in his hunt to place a hand on each of the salarians, offering a brief prayer to Kalahira for the care of their souls. Then he moved on.

He easily caught up with the guards and followed them for a time. Their conversation confirmed what his intel had said: Nassana Dantius was paranoid and waiting for one of her sisters to try and assassinate her. They might not know it was he, but they knew someone was coming. Then their com exploded in chatter, and all fell silent as they listened. Three people had entered the building and were working their way up the floors, killing as they went.

A small, efficient band working its way to the top?

Nassana's sisters had arrived.


	5. Chapter 5

The guards hurried off to the lower floors and Thane moved on, ducking into hiding occasionally to wait for groups of mercenaries to pass. He paused when he heard the whispered conversation of a group of huddled salarians, slowing his pace to match theirs as they cautiously emerged from their hiding place to look for a better one.

He followed them as far as another security closet; a good place to hide, he heard one of them say. He had to agree. They had opened the door and were slipping inside when a lone merc came barreling down the hall. Apparently, he was late.

Seeing the salarians, the merc slowed from a run to a fast, aggressive walk. Pulling out his pistol, he began to yell at the salarians, gesturing at them with his firearm. The salarians began to panic, and Thane moved quickly. He knew how this would end. Lining up the shot, he fired, nailing the merc in the back of his skull. He fell forward onto his knees from the force of the bullet before face-planting into the rough, unfinished floor.

The salarians stared at the dead body in front of them in surprise. Then one of them grabbed the merc's discarded pistol, and another closed and locked the doors.

Good.

The sound of pounding feet forced Thane unexpectedly into a maintenance hatch not far away. He'd just pulled the grate back into place when the room was suddenly filled with mercs. His eyes widened as he took in them all – twenty was more than he was willing to take on alone. Then three figures emerged from the elevator across the room, and shots rang out.

It was quickly evident that even though the mercenaries were well equipped, the group of three would be victorious. There was a turian with a sniper rifle, picking off mercs with ease. No target that would have been fodder for the other two was ever in his sights. The human male was a biotic, using pull to bring enemies out in the open and spray them with bullets. The last one was a human as well, female. Directing her allies' movements with hand signals and, most likely, verbal cues, she was the reason they were advancing so swiftly. She directed and she shot, both occurring with flawless efficiency.

At one point, he caught a good look at her face, and it struck a chord with is memories. Searching through them, it didn't take him long to recall where. For a time, her face had been on all the news vids, and he had done research to fulfill his own curiosity. Commander Shepard. Spectre. Hero of the Citadel.

Dead.

She gave out a warning yell, causing both of her companions to duck down behind cover – Thane saw a familiar logo on the human's chest, Cerberus – and fired a burst of biotis-modified fire at the last remaining enemy, an asari biotic down to just her shields. A few shots from her gun and the asari was down, too. Apparently, the reports about Shepard's death had been exaggerated.

With the room clear, Shepard and the turian began to rifle through the dead mercs' pockets, retrieving any unspent heatsink capacitors and distributing them evenly amongst the three of them. The other human remained on guard. Thane couldn't help but be impressed. They took only the heatsinks, and left the dead with their dignity.

Then Shepard glanced around the room before heading for the closet the salarians had hidden themselves in. With the recent gunfire, he was sure they were frightened.

And armed.

Thane quietly extracted himself from the maintenance shaft, and aimed the pistol at the back of Shepard's head as she fiddled with the lock the salarians had put in place. The Commander Shepard of two years ago had a reputation of diplomacy and mercy. But that was two years ago.

The door opened with a metallic 'whoosh' and the salarian instantly brought his pistol up to aim at Shepard. She was fortunate that she chose not to go for her weapon as she talked him down; her life would have been forfeit. It ended without bloodshed. It appeared that the Commander Shepard of today was the woman the vids claimed she was two years ago.

He was unsurprised to hear her ask about 'someone, not a merc' claiming that she wanted to 'talk to him'. Two months ago, Cerberus had approached him with an exorbitant offer of credits if he would be willing to take on a job for them for an unspecified length of time. He'd turned them down, he didn't work for money anymore; and the only open-ended contract he had ever held had been with Irikah.

So, Cerberus had recruited the infamous Commander Shepard to speak with him. She would have to wait; he had a job to complete. Certain that the salarians would be unharmed, Thane put his pistol away and slipped past them towards the next room.

As he expected, it was empty. The reinforcements from higher floors had not arrived yet. If the trio behind him kept up with their pattern of behavior, they would draw a lot of fire and attention, allowing him to forgo some of the pipes and paths he had intended to take.

In short order, he had reached the unfinished bridge. At one point, he had intended to cross it by crawling along the water pipes along its underside, a dangerous proposition with the high winds. Now, it was a risk he would not have to take. The bridge was abandoned, for the moment. The mercs assigned to guard it had left for the lower floors to deal with Commander Shepard, and the ones to replace them had not yet arrived. He had two minutes, perhaps, before the next batch arrived, an excess of thirty seconds.

Plenty of time.

He was across the bridge and deep inside the walls by the time the replacement mercs had arrived.

Once again, he was vertical in an empty water pipe, using his flashlight to bore a hole in the metal. A leap and a roll, and he was welding the metal back into place. He paused, listening to the rest of the building. He'd moved far past the hubbub caused by Commander Shepard and her team, and was back to crawling in the walls. The mercs here were too nervous about the happenings in the other tower for him to attempt to sneak by them. No matter, he hadn't intended to try.

He turned to the water purification machine in the room with him. This was the point of no return. In order to proceed, he was going to have to drain the water from the pipes. The only way to do so was the open the one-way safety valve hidden in the belly of the machine in front of him, and let gravity take control. The lower pipes he had already traversed would fill with the unfiltered water, clearing the path ahead, but denying him a chance home. He would never make it back out through the dozens of mercenaries still alive. He thought of Shepard and her deadly efficient sweep of the building. If she made it to the top…he brushed the thought away. He could not be sure of it, and thus, he could not count on it. As far as he was concerned, Commander Shepard never left the room with the salarians. He could not afford to assume otherwise.

Bringing up his omni-tool, Thane input the series of codes that would activate the emergency drainage valve. There was a metallic thump, then the sound of a thousand gallons of water rushing past. When the process was finished, Thane put his omni-tool away and got out his flashlight. Time to move on.

ooOO00OOoo

The rest of the journey went off without a hitch. He climbed ten floors within minutes, his body following his predetermined path with little input from him. He was listening to the guards com chatter as he passed upwards.

"The infiltrators are in the elevator!"

"The infiltrators are coming across the bridge!"

"They're here!"

Well and so. Commander Shepard was catching up. She really must want to speak with him. She would get her chance at the top of the tower, after the job was finished.

The last bit was the trickiest. Nassana's paranoia was nowhere more apparent than just outside her penthouse. Mechs and guards inside and out, all of the rooms' various entrances were double-and-triple covered to ensure no unauthorized entry. If she was smart, or had hired a practiced security consultant, then even the air ducts would have sensors of some sort. This was the only part of the journey he'd been unable to plan for. Everything hinged on her not securing the air ducts that entered her penthouse. There was no other way in.

However, air ducts were notorious for housing vermin of all types. He could clearly see where Nassana had security drones and traps set for one such as him. He could also see the chewed-through wires and fecal matter that spoke of a large and productive rodent population. He sent a swift prayer up to Amonkira in thanks for clearing the way. Her defenses were down, and she had no idea.

Thane crept up to the edge of the vents entrance. There she was, Nassana Dantius.

Target acquired.

She was yelling into her radio at her subordinates, ordering them to stop the intruders at all costs. Thane knew now that the mercs would fail. Commander Shepard was determined, and would get what she wanted. He patched into the room's security network and settled in to wait. Nassana's moment was near at hand.


	6. Chapter 6

Neither of them had long to wait. The door slid open, and two humans and a turian walked into the room. Commander Shepard had arrived.

Nassana's guards, two humans and an asari, pulled out their weapons, aiming them at Shepard and her companions. As he'd hoped, all attention was now focused on them.

"Shepard," Nassana said with surprise. So, she knew the Commander. "I thought you were dead!"

"I got better."

"And now you're here to kill me," there was fear in Nassana's voice.

"You're _really_ paranoid, aren't you?" Shepard seemed unimpressed by the weapons the guards had pointed at her. Her companions had kept their weapons drawn, but the Commander had put hers away as soon as she'd entered the room.

Nassana waved her hand dismissively at the Commander, "Don't patronize me, Shepard." She turned her back on the intruders.

"Charming as ever," Shepard commented sardonically.

"I'm sure you find this all very ironic," Nassana commented over her shoulder. "First you take care of my sister, and now you're here for me." She turned back around to face her attackers. "Well, you've made it this far. Now what?"

"You really think I'm here to kill you?" The Commander asked incredulously. If she had been after Nassana, the woman would be dead, not debating the ironies of her life.

"Do you have another reason for destroying my towers? Decimating my security?" Once again, she turned her back on Commander Shepard. This time, going so far as to walk away, approaching the large window that spanned the back wall to stare out of it. Her world. How had it come crumbling down?

"I'm just looking for someone," Shepard denied again, a hint of annoyance creeping into her tone.

Nassana whirled away from the window in a fit of pique, "you expect me to believe that? Is it credits? Is that what you want? Just tell me your price, and we can make this problem go away."

Thane reached into his jacket, retrieving three heavy metal balls. Aiming carefully, he sent two spinning down the vent ahead of him. The last one went bouncing behind. The noise would certainly be audible to those in the room below.

Shepard folded her arms across her chest, satisfaction coloring her tone, "All the credits in the world won't make this problem go away, Nassana."

"Who the hell gave you the right to play god?" Nassana demanded, approaching the table that was the only barrier between Commander Shepard and herself. "I may not be perfect, but look at you! We both kill people for money. What's the difference?"

"You kill people because they're beneath you, or in your way." Shepard stepped forward aggressively, "I kill people because they leave me no choice."

Thane hurled a few more balls down the vent, glad to finally see a response from one of the human guards.

"You've got a choice! You don't have to do this," Nassana pleaded, even as her guards swung their weapons around in agitation. "I can tell you – what?" She snapped at the asari commando at her side.

"I heard something."

Nassana reached out her hands and placed them on the table in front of her, head bowed in frustrated defeat. "Dammit." She rallied quickly and pointed off to her left, "Check the other entrances."

The commando obligingly began to walk off. Nassana was separating herself from her protectors.

Perfect.

The commando had barely gone four steps when Thane _moved._

He dropped out of the tunnel behind the two human mercs, dimly hearing Nassana say, "You, stay put."

Moving fast, Thane had broken the neck of the first guard and crushed the larynx of the second before Nassana even knew there was a new threat. Bringing up her pistol, she began to swing it around in his direction. Thane drew his own pistol. One shot at the remaining guard, and the asari commando was down with a neat, round hold in her head, just like his first kill all those years ago.

Thane banished the old memory with a blink before it could catch hold of him. Twisting out of Nassana's range of fire, Thane brought up his free hand and grasped her weapon arm in it, both deflecting any future shots and pulling her towards him in one smooth motion.

He brought the pistol up against her stomach with enough force to knock the wind out of her, angling it upwards so the bullet would bypass her ribs and hit her heart. There was a pause as he held them that way, offering up a silent prayer to Kalahira for the asari's soul.

Then he pulled the trigger.

The sound of the bullet's launch was muffled by Nassana's body, and she let out a weakened gasp as the bullet tore through her heart. She would be gone in moments; it was a good death.

Nassana's gun dropped from nerveless fingers, and Thane lowered his left arm to her waist, cradling her gently against him like a lover. He placed his pistol on the table and brought his right hand up to the back of her head, offering her comfort in her last moments, crooning softly. When she was gone, he laid her back on the table, reverently folding her arms across her stomach in a peaceful pose.

Then he took two steps backwards, bowed his head, and began to pray. The human male interrupted his thoughts, though Thane gave no outward sign of his disturbance.

"That was quite the entrance," the human said with grudging admiration.

Thane heard footsteps, and knew Commander Shepard was approaching. The time for their conversation had arrived.

"I was hoping to talk to you," she said quietly, as if loath to disturb him.

Thane interrupted his prayers to respond, "I apologize, but prayers for the wicked must not be forsaken."

There was a pause and Thane could almost _feel_ Shepard struggling with herself, and he wondered why.

"Do you really think she deserves it?"

Ah, yes. Humans and their instinctual loathing of speaking ill of the dead.

"Not for her," Thane responded, his prayers complete, "for me." Lowering his hands from where they had been clasped in front of him, he retrieved his pistol, strapping it to his side. "The measure of an individual can be difficult to discern from actions alone." He passed around the right side of the table, trailing one hand along its surface, savoring the feel of wood under his fingers. Nassana had been a rich woman to be able to afford a table this size with any amount of wood on it, even if it was an accent. "Take you, for instance. All this destruction, chaos." He emerged from the far side of the table and cast one last look at the woman he still expected to be his last kill. "I was curious to see how far you would go to find me." He came to a stop an arms length away from her. From here, he knew seven different ways to kill her that would not leave him vulnerable to attack from her companions, and five that would. "Well, here I am."

"How'd you know I was coming at all?"

"I didn't," he responded, walking closer. He wondered how close would she allow him to get? Not very, as it turned out. She stepped out of his way and he continued past as if that had been his intention all along. "Not until you marched in the front door and started shooting."

He looked at the Cerberus man, wondering if he knew that Thane had been approached previously. He ignored the gun. At this range, it offered no threat to him. He folded his arms behind himself in his accustomed military pose. "Nassana had become paranoid," he told them, "you saw the strength of her guard force. She believed one of her sisters would kill her."

Thane cast a glance at the spectre listening quietly behind him. "You," he admitted, "were a valuable distraction."

"You used me so you could kill her," the Commander seemed surprised, as if it had required daring to do such a thing.

Well, perhaps it had. Few, he imagined, would attempt to use her at all. There was a confidence in her manner and speech that could have been intimidating had he not been so sure of his own abilities.

"I needed a diversion, you needed to speak with me." He hoped she wasn't waiting for an apology. She gave some unseen signal to her companions, and the two of them lowered their weapons. He turned to face the Commander, "You've fulfilled your end of the bargain. What would you like to discuss?"

For the first time, Thane met the sea green eyes of the woman in front of him. What he saw shocked him. Though clearly alive, her eyes were dead. This was a woman who had not only gazed into the face of death, but had become death itself. He didn't know how, but this spectre had gone to the ocean and returned. Those rumors about her death _hadn't_ been exaggerated. She was alive again, somehow, but not unchanged. In that moment, he saw his future in her eyes, and it chilled him.

Desperate to break eye contact, he turned and walked back towards the desk, hoping the sight of Nassana would do the impossible and remove the sight of Commander Shepard's eyes from his memory. The spectre began to speak.

"Someone's been abducting entire human colonies," she said, "We're going to stop them." There was a steel note in her voice he couldn't help but admire. "We already know the culprits – a race called the collectors."

Thane closed his eyes, digging through his memories, "I've heard of them." He twisted in place, not quite capable of facing her, yet. "Attacking the collectors would require passing through the Omega Four relay. No ship has ever returned from doing so."

She stepped towards him confidently, a tiny smirk on her face, "They told me it was impossible to get to Ilos, too."

A rumble of amusement escaped him, though he was certain only the turian could hear it. "A fair point," he turned away as she came up to stand next to him. Both of them stared out the window at the sunset. "You've built a career on doing the impossible."

Thane closed his eyes, thinking it over. Snap decisions had become second nature to him, and his soul told him that this was not an opportunity to cast aside. But if he was to work for her, there were a few things she needed to know. He reopened his eyes and stared out at the sunrise as he began to speak. He wondered fleetingly if Irikah would approve.

"This was to be my last mission. I'm dying." Those were words he'd spoken to Irikah all those years ago. He lowered his head and shook it slightly, striving to clear the encroaching memory from his mind. "Low survival odds don't concern me. The abduction of your colonists does." How many had disappeared now? Twenty-two. The smallest colonies had a thousand people, the largest over fifty. There could be hundreds of thousands of people missing.

"You're dying?" She took an involuntary half-step backwards. "Are you contagious?" She seemed to recover herself, though she did not move back to her original position. "How long do you have?"

"If you're interested, we can discuss it on your ship." She still looked nervous. "The problem isn't contagious, and it won't affect my work," he soothed.

She relaxed. "I hadn't heard that. Is there anything I can do?"

"Giving me this opportunity is enough," he paused, marshalling his thoughts. "The universe is a dark place. I'm trying to make it brighter before I die." The rising sun was more beautiful than he'd ever seen before. "Many innocents died today," he turned to the Commander, but kept his lids lowered, gathering the courage to look her in the eyes again, "I wasn't fast enough and they suffered." He lifted his eyes and was once more arrested by the green orbs in front of him. "I must atone for that," he managed to get out.

He offered his hand, glad when she broke eye contact to shake it. It allowed him to continue, "I will work for you, Shepard, no charge."

ooOO00OOoo

Author's Note: All of the movements and dialogue in this chapter are canon. That is: laboriously pulled from youtube clips of the recruitment mission and lovingly rendered in written form. The things Thane thinks are my own imagination – all else is as Bioware crafted it to be.


	7. Chapter 7

Thane felt the doors close behind him as he surveyed the room labeled life-support. Small generators and storage tanks lined the wall to the right, and partially along the wall to the left. Half the back wall was taken up by a widow looking out over the Normandy's engine; where the room bent and formed a little nook, there were numerous boxes stacked on top of each other filling the space, partially obscuring the window. A small metal table that brought back childhood memories of laying on a similar table with a rifle in his hands and a vid about Krogan anatomy, was wedged along the back wall, loaded down with ship parts in various states of repair; the tools to fix them neatly placed on lit shelves above.

Keeping a hold on his bag of possessions, Thane approached the window and wedged himself between the boxes and the view port to look out over the engine room. There was a Quarian, loaded down with a harness and pulleys for safety, crawling over the glowing blue surface of the spherical engine block. How Commander Shepard got a Quarian to agree to work with Cerberus was quite the puzzle. Thane had done some research on the human organization when they had first approached him, and had discovered a nasty exchange between a Quarian exile under Cerberus payroll and the Migrant Fleet, that had involved betrayal of the deepest kind, and the destruction of two of the Fleet's ships – with all hands on board. Given how loyal and protective Quarians were of their own, the presence of one of the Hooded Ones onboard a Cerberus ship was a statistical anomaly.

He put the question aside for the moment in favor of contemplating his new quarters. The room was obviously never intended to be habited; there was no space for meditation or repose. He eyed the floor and wondered if his new Commander would spare him the time to go back to his safe house and bring a cot back with him. He could sleep on the floor should it be needful, but he'd rather avoid the inconvenience if he could.

Approaching the small table, Thane pushed a few of the items aside and laid his travel bag down in the cleared space. He was in process of unzipping it when the door swished open. Thane quickly thumbed the safety off the SMG in his hand even as he lifted his head with a pleasant expression on it.

"Oh!" A light-colored human stepped through the doorway, his mouth open with surprise.

"Good day to you, Sir." Thane said agreeably, relaxing as he took in the man's food-splattered apron and cut-riddled hands.

"G-good day." The man spluttered, clearly still flummoxed by the appearance of an alien in his workspace.

"I apologize if my presence has startled you."

The human grunted and turned his head, looking out over the room even as he kept glancing at the Drell out of the corner of his eye every few seconds.

Thane released the SMG and folded his hands loosely behind him, rumbling his amusement. Clearly this human thought he was being subtle.

Satisfied that nothing in the room had been broken or damaged in the few scant minutes that Thane had been along with the stuff, the human returned his attention to the alien intruding on his workspace. "And who might you be, eh?" he asked gruffly.

On the left hand side of the room, a small panel unfolded from the wall, revealing a holographic projector from which an image of EDI was being cast. "Ser Krios has recently been recruited by Commander Shepard to help us fight the Collectors. Drell prefer arid regions, and life-support has slightly drier air here due to the presence of the equipment. The Commander has requested that this area be provided for his use." EDI said, the lights on her display blinking in time with her words. It was almost like the bioluminescence spoken by the Hanar.

The human stared hard at Thane for a moment longer before the hostility slowly drained away from his body language. "Well, if you're alright by the Commander, you're alright by me. I can work down in the hold just as easy as here, so long as the parts get fixed." His voice was still gruff, but there no longer was any heat to it. Was it really possible to diffuse aggression simply by mentioning the Commander? From his reception in the meeting room, Thane had gotten the impression that the humans on board weren't going to be very welcoming. The solder from Cerberus had been particularly hostile, and it had been Thane's understanding that the men from lower echelons took their queues how to act from those in the higher. It could be that the Soldier wasn't very well thought of, or that this Cook didn't follow the usual social rules. But it was far more likely that the support of Commander Shepard was enough to put Thane in the good graces of the Cook. And that alone said so much about how her people thought of her.

The Cook took several steps into the room and as he did, Thane caught the discreet re-folding of EDI's projection plate back into the wall as the man began to speak, "Nice to meet you Ser Krios. My name is Eric Gardner, mess sergeant extraordinaire. But you can just call me Gardner." He held his hand out for a shake, which Thane took gratefully with a smile. Before Thane could properly introduce himself, Gardner released Thane's hand and slapped his palms together, rubbing them back and forth gleefully. "Now, lets see about getting this room cleaned out for you, what do you say?" Turning on his heels, Gardner strode for the door, leaving Thane with a negligent gesture cast over his shoulder that could mean either 'follow me' or 'stay here'.

Unsure of which was correct, Thane chose to follow the human in hopes of seeing portions of the ship he'd not yet encountered. Gardner flashed him a grin as they stepped onto the elevator and rode it all the way down to the cargo hold.

"Now, let's see…" Gardner said, looking around the room with a frown of concentration. "If I put the spare parts here…" he trailed off as he wandered away, occasionally pausing as he bent this way and that, trying to judge special distances. "This'll work just fine." Gardner turned back towards the elevator where he'd left the Drell, only to find him gone. "Mr. Ser?"

Thane turned at the odd form of address, Gardner was peering into the shadows of the cargo bay, obviously looking for Thane.

"I am here, Mr. Gardner." Thane said, stepping back into the minimal light provided by the elevator.

"Teh, don't DO that," the mess sergeant admonished.

"My apologies," Thane sketched a shallow bow.

Gardener merely grunted and gestured for Thane to follow him back onto the elevator.

"I can move all that stuff down here, no problem. Then you will have life support all to yourself." Gardner assured him as they stepped back off the elevator on the crew deck.

True to his word it didn't take long to stash everything in the cargo hold, though it was only with bad grace that he allowed Thane to assist with the move. Barely an hour later, Thane was standing in the newly emptied room. Everything but the metal table had gone downstairs, while a chair and a cot had made their way up.

Throughout the move, Gardner kept Thane entertained with bits of information about the rest of the crew. "We've got ourselves quite the eclectic crew, what's one more, eh? After all, there's the she-bitch from hell holed up down in engineering, a cloned Krogan adolescent soul-searching in the port cargo, and a dead vigilante fiddling with our weapons."

"Those are interesting titles you've given them, Mr. Gardner." Thane commented mildly, hoping to draw more information out of the man.

The mess sergeant snorted inelegantly. "You wouldn't say that if you knew them." He responded acridly. "Accurate's more like it. They're some strange folk."

"How so?"

Gardner shrugged, pulling against the weight of a box in his arms. "Well, take that vigilante. He's a turian. S'possedly the one that ran with the Commander when she went after Seren. But he almost never talks to her. She visits him often, but all he ever says is 'Busy with calibrations. Talk later?'" He deposited the box on the floor of the cargo hold, rubbing his shoulder as he straightened. "She walks away from the battery mumbling about stubborn raptors most the time."

Thane placed his box next to the humans. "You believe he avoids her on purpose?"

"Naw," Gardner shook his head and walked back to the lift, "more like he's distracted. Something's going on in his head and he doesn't want to talk about it."

"And the Krogan?" Thane asked mildly.

"That one's a bit scary, though not as much as the she-bitch. We went after his 'father' – Krogan scientist (and isn't that an oxymoron) by the name of Okeer. Guy sacrificed himself so we could get this clone out. But when it wakes up, it claims not to care about the Krogan. Says that all the imprinting Okeer attempted failed. Took the name 'Grunt' and has been fighting with us simply because we have the 'strongest enemies'." Gardner shuddered faintly as he led the way once again out of the lift and across the hallway into life support. "Don't rightly trust him, but Shepard says he's okay. And he hasn't hurt anyone on our side –yet. Still, I try and stay out of his way. But you – " here he cast a glance at Thane "you don't look that bad sort. What were you doing when the Commander scooped you up?"

Thane squashed his amusement; this man probably wouldn't appreciate it. "I was assassinating Nassana Dantius." He replied truthfully. No point in hiding his profession, the Cerberus soldier would likely spread the story of his recruitment shortly.

The human blinked and took a small step back. "Ah, that so?" He asked nervously. He paused and licked his lips before obviously deciding once again that Shepard's word was good enough. "Well, I suppose you'll be quite useful then, eh?"

Thane smiled softly, attempting to appear non-threatening. "I shall strive to be."

ooOO00OOoo

Thane glanced from his travel bag to the abandoned storage shelves in the corner. If he put his guns there, it would free up the majority of the space in his bag. Then he could stash it under his cot.

He'd just placed his third sniper rifle on the shelf when the door swooshed open again. A quick glance in the shiny metal before him revealed the disturbing gaze of his new boss.

"Commander," he said by way of greeting, turning to face her as he clasped his hands behind his back and drew himself up formally.

"Make yourself right at home."

Thane glanced at the table and cot set up in the short leg of the room, unsure if she was being sarcastic. Her dead eyes were impossible to read. Before he could formulate a response, Shepard spoke again. "You up for a mission? I know it's short notice, but I have someone else I want to speak to before we leave Illium."

Thane blinked. Had she just flicked her elbows at him? "Of course, Commander. I can be ready in a moment."

"Good," she said with a nod, "suit up and meet me in on the CIC."

She turned to go, and Thane spun in place, grabbing his favorite sniper rifle and SMG off the shelves. Holstering both of them in practiced movements, Thane was at Shepard's side and ready to go as she opened the door to life support.

She blinked at him, her fingers half-curled at her sides. "That was fast." She said with surprise.

Thane rumbled his amusement. "One never knows when they will be called upon to act. It is best to be prepared."

Shepard cocked her head at him, bird-like, as she contemplated his words. "Indeed." She said eventually.

Thane was glad when the doors to the CIC opened, allowing him to escape her piercing gaze.

Across the room and down the hallway towards the airlock stood the Turian, chatting with the pilot. "Yo, Garrus. Time to go." Shepard called as she preceded Thane down the hallway towards the pair.

"I hear you, Commander." The Turian rumbled, turning to face her. Thane found it intriguing that 'Garrus' had no problems meeting her eyes.

"Don't know if you two have been formally introduced. Garrus, this is Thane Krios. Thane, this is Garrus Vakarian – " there was a lough cough from the forward facing chair. "…and Jeff Moreau, my pilot." She finished smoothly.

The chair swung around. "Oh, hey Commander. Didn't see you there."

She merely lifted an eyebrow.

The pilot looked nervous. "Er. Right. So! Who are you going after this time?" Moreau asked brightly.

"An asari justicar." Shepard replied dismissively.

Both Thane and Garrus wore expressions of concerned surprise.

"What?" Shepard asked, seeing their faces. "You know her?"

Thane and Garrus shared a glance.

"I know OF them." Thane offered.

Shepard merely tilted her head to the side and waited.

"They're the figurative 'bogey men' of the Asari race, Shepard" Garrus said, using a term Thane had not heard before.

A grin spread across Shepard's face. "Sounds fun."

ooOO00OOoo

A/n: So. This chapter was like squeezing water out of rocks. But, it's done, and I'm moving smoothly onwards. Next chapter won't take three months to publish. Promise!


	8. Chapter 8

Thane, Shepard and Garrus stood in the airlock, waiting for the decontamination process to run its course when Thane's omni-tool pinged. Bringing his left hand up, Thane checked the alert. It was Kolyat's birthday. He was eighteen standard years old now, and officially a man in the eyes of his people. As the airlock opened and he followed the other two out onto the docks, Thane wondered what Kolyat looked like now. A person could change a lot in ten years, a child more than an adult.

As they stepped foot onto the trading floor, Thane's footsteps stuttered to a halt. If today was Kolyat's birthday, then he'd been on Illium hunting Nassana for two months. He thought it had only been a week or two. Glancing up, Thane saw the Commander and Garrus disappearing around the corner and he began walking again. I was no wonder that Shepard had traversed the floors of the Dantius Towers so quickly if this was how she walked - she seemed always on the verge of breaking into a run.

He caught up to them quickly and followed in silence, listening to snippets of conversations around him. As they approached the back of the trading floor, Shepard slowed and then came to a stop as she looked out over the city. Garrus stopped on her right, his gaze flicking over the crowd.

As they lingered, Thane took the opportunity to study Commander Shepard. Even though she had enough vigor to power her way through the crowd, it seemed like a great sorrow settled on her shoulders, stripping away her vitality. All that was left was a tired, half-broken woman who had given much in her life, and was asked to give yet more. Seeing her so vulnerable was painful- she somehow brought to memory his time spent lost in his grief for Irikah, when he'd forsaken his family in his efforts to revenge her death. This was not the human Spectre that stood before him, but the woman who had come back from the sea, and Thane quickly turned his head away, looking out over the city as well.

As he took in the scene, Thane found himself speaking without having consciously deciding to do so. "I've spent the last two months on Illium, tracking Nassana. In all that time, I never stopped to look at the city. The view really is …spectacular."

He heard Shepard shift behind him, and Thane turned to see both his Comander and Garrus looking at him with thoughtful expressions. Once again, Shepard tilted her head and looked at him with that strange bird-like gesture of hers, a glitter of something in her eyes. Fighting down his unease, Thane returned her dead stare with one of his own before a grin slowly split her face. It was gradual in coming, but by the time it had blossomed completely, her smile had reached her eyes, warming them considerably. It wasn't so hard to meet her gaze then.

"Come on," she said, making an exaggerated gesture with her hand, "we've got an Asari to find."

A few steps way, at the back of the trading floor, there was a set of stairs, partially hidden by the shadows. Moving again at her half-run, Shepard ascended the stairs, while Garrus dropped back to walk with Thane.

"Remember you volunteered." He said to Thane in a conspiratorial whisper.

"Pardon me?" Thane said in bewilderment.

"Things have a way of …happening…around the Commander. You'll see. And when they do, just remember: you volunteered."

"I…see." Thane said, clearly befuddled.

Garrus merely chuckled and stepped up to stand at Shepard's right hand as a secretary waved them into an office.

The Asari seated behind the desk looked up and smiled at their approach. "Ah, Shepard!" She said by way of welcome. "Back so soon?" Her eyes flicked over to Thane "And with a Drell, I see. This must be Thane Krios." She stood and stepped around the desk, offering Thane a bow appropriate for one of his people.

He returned the gesture. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Madam."

She laughed lightly and stepped back behind the desk. "Don't pretend Ser Krios. You know who I am, even if we've not met."

Thane smiled softly, rumbling his amusement through the room. "Indeed," he said with a smile, "Madam information broker."

She merely smiled softly and turned her attention back to the Commander. "Shepard. Looking for that Justicar now?"

The Spectre nodded and took a seat at the lone chair in front of the disk. "Any new information on her whereabouts, Liara?"

The information broker didn't bother consulting her files. "Yes, actually. A Volus merchant named Dakni Kur was murdered recently in a back alley controlled by the Eclipse sisterhood. Probably a smuggling job gone wrong. The Justicar was recently seen sniffing around the crime scene. Here," Liara picked a datapad up off her desk and handed it to the Commander. "I've loaded that with all the pertinent data. You can use the taxis at the far edge of the trading floor to reach the alleyways. Ask for Officer Dara."

Shepard accepted the datapad and flicked idly through it a moment before returning her attention to her friend. "Thank you for this, Liara. It means a lot."

"Of course."

"You will let me know if there is anything I can do to help you in return, won't you?"

Liara nodded. "Certainly, Shepard. I'm working on something now, but I'm still putting the pieces together. I'll contact you when I'm a little closer to implementing it."

"Good." Shepard stood, awkwardly fiddling with the datapad for a moment. "See you, Liara."

Liara offered another soft smile. "Goodbye Commander." As they turned to go, she raised her voice. "Krios. A moment, please."

Thane paused and looked back at her questioningly.

"We'll wait for you by the taxi, Krios." Shepard said from behind him.

"Yes, Commander." Thane said in acknowledgement.

Soft steps as Shepard and Garrus retreated, then the faint swoosh of the door.

"Please, Ser Krios. Have a seat." Liara said, gesturing across from her.

Thane settled himself in the chair, but maintained his silence.

"I know you never expected to survive the Dantius job." She said quietly.

Thane settled himself back in his chair, his hand steepled in front of himself. "Indeed?"

"Yes. Else why would you have given Seryna your real name?" The information broker said with a smirk.

Thane controlled his reaction through sheer force of will. How could he have been so _stupid?_

It was Liara's turn to settle back into her chair. "I've bought the information off her. _And_ paid for her silence in the matter." She told him coolly.

"How much will this cost me?" Thane asked wearily. He knew better than to give out his name on a job. He'd acted rashly, now he was paying the price.

"I don't want your money, Krios." She informed him.

"No?"

"No."

"What then?" Thane asked. Surely she didn't expect him to believe she'd done it out of the goodness of her heart: she was an information broker.

"My price is this: you keep Shepard safe, and I will keep your secret safe." She leaned forward, her eyes burning with sudden fervor.

"That's all?" Thane asked dubiously.

"That is all." Liara blinked, and the mad light in her eyes was gone. "You are uniquely suited to watch her back. You've spent your whole life finding cracks and slipping through them. Now I want you to keep others from doing the same."

"You think someone wants to assassinate the Commander?"

"I think it's a possibility. She's said some really unpopular things about the Reapers. And now she's paired up with an organization widely thought of as a pro-human terrorist group. She's not making many friends."

Thane inclined his head. "I will pay your price."

Liara perked up, energy suffusing her tone. "Good! Now, if you don't mind, I really am very busy."

Thane excused himself, slipping from the room as the information broker pulled a datapad towards her. He found the Commander and her companion where they promised to be.

"Krios." Vakarian said by way of greeting. "Good timing."

"You ready?" Shepard asked as the taxi landed next to them.

"Yes, Commander." Thane confirmed.

ooOO00OOoo

The trip to the crime scene was made in silence. Commander Shepard sat in front, reviewing the information provided by Liara, while Thane and Garrus settled in the back seat.

Upon disembarking, it was easy to see where the murder had occurred. Crime scene tape and armored law enforcement blocked the entrance to the alleyway, merely a darker black in the deep gloom of the spaceport. It was easy to believe this was the result of a smuggling job gone awry.

Shepard immediately made for the tape, but Garrus laid a restraining hand on her arm. "Can't count on your Spectre status to get you through crime scene tape anymore, Shepard. You have to use the official channels now." He nodded meaningfully at a nearby building conspicuously labeled 'police' in temporary lighting.

Shepard snarled, but relented. "Yeah, okay. Dara, was it?"

Officer Dara wasn't hard to find, but she quickly pointed them in the direction of another police officer named Anaya who was the Detective in charge of the investigation.

"Commander Shepard?" Detective Anaya asked dubiously upon introduction. "The dead human Spectre?"

"The same." Shepard confirmed.

Anaya shook her head in disbelief. "This must be _some_ mission you're on, to fake your death for so long. What can I do to help you?"

Shepard shot Garrus an I-told-you-so look. "You seem to have a bit of a problem out there." Shepard said, gesturing with her chin to the crime scene visible through the window behind the detective.

"I'll say. A Volus dead from a shotgun blast at close range, his partner looking to bolt, and a Justicar on the warpath. My superiors are not happy."

"I might be able to help with some of that." Shepard offered.

Detective Anaya's look shifted to wary. "I'm listening."

"I'm looking for the Justicar. I'm hoping to convince her to join my team." Shepard said with confidence. As if it was a foregone conclusion that the Justicar would be willing to join her crew. Thane wondered how much of that confidence was blind optimism.

Understanding crept into Anaya's expression, thought the wariness remained. "I see. And you want access to the crime scene?"

"I would appreciate it."

Thane heard the words the Commander hadn't said. _But it isn't necessary._

The detective paused for a moment longer before seeming to offer up a philosophical shrug. "All right. I'll give you clearance into the alley, but try not to mess with the crime scene, all right? The investigators aren't done with it yet." She made a few selections on the screen in front of her. "Done." She looked up at Shepard and her squad, scrutinizing each of them in turn. "Not sure if you really need more companions, those two look pretty capable. Still, I'd appreciate it if you could get her off Illium as fast as possible. She's making all the politicians nervous. And nervous politicians squeeze my bosses, who in turn lean on me."

"A cop's job is tough enough without pressure from the higher ups." Garrus offered sympathetically.

"Exactly. So, if you wouldn't mind…" Anaya gestured at the crime scene tape visible through the window behind her.

Shepard gave her teammates a nod and led them back out of the building and around the corner to the police line. They easily slipped thought the barrier and into the swiftly darkening interior of the alley. As the shadows thickened, Shepard's posture shifted subtly from that of a confident Commander, to a silent predator. In unison, Shepard and Garrus unfolded their weapons, sharing a swift glance that spoke of a long history. When Shepard glanced back at Thane, he had his weapon out and was crouching soundlessly in the shadows of a nearby corner.

Her eyes flicked over the alley calculatingly, and her voice whispered over their headsets, a slight delay from when she spoke and when he heard her words crackling over their headsets due to their translators. "Keep your eyes open guys. Something isn't right."

"Roger that, Commander." Garrus responded.

The three of them advanced down the alley, light glinting dully off the armor of his two companions, while Thane's own leather jacked absorbed the light that touched it, allowing him to blend more easily into the darkness. It wasn't long before they heard voiced from around a corner. Shepard held up a hand to stall their approach and crept closer.

"…a Justicar? What's one doing here?" Came one frightened voice.

"Tracking an Ardat-Yakshi, I hear." Responded another.

"Goddess, I don't know which is worse…" The first voice trailed off with a tremor.

"Try not to worry about it. Boss has set up a trap for her. We're just here to make sure she doesn't slip through the net."

Shepard turned and looked at her squad mates, silently motioning them closer. She shared an intense look with the two of them, seeming to impart some set of instructions to the Turian who nodded once, sharply and shifted his grip on his sniper rifle. When she moved that gaze to Thane, he simply got flustered by her dead eyes and broke eye contact. He hated this reaction she pulled from him.

A soft touch on his shoulder brought his eyes back up.

"You're comftorable with close-quarters combat, Krios?" Shepard breathed the words to him with a soft understanding in her eyes that brought a little life back into them.

"Yes, Commander." He responded.

"Sneak up on them as the shooting starts. Take a path through the shadows. Garrus will stay back here to take out the distant targets and nail anyone who tries to flank us. I'll go up the middle to draw their fire. You'll be responsible for taking out anyone who tries to hid in ambush or turns coward."

It was an elegant plan, one that played to all their strengths. One needn't have complex strategies to be tactically sound. Still, it was risky as hell, given the number of opponents waiting for them – a full squadron if his ears were correct – and Thane suddenly understood what Vakarian had meant by things 'happening' around the Spectre.

"Understood, Commander." Thane said softly.

A brief smile flitted over her face before she returned her attention to the front. "All right, gentlemen. Time to kick some ass."

ooOO00OOoo

She was alive in battle, as she seemed to be nowhere else. It was an experience being in the middle of a cohesive unit as strong as the one formed by Shepard and Vakarian. The words he'd imagined as barked orders while he was watching from his hiding place in the Dantius Towers were, in fact, clipped one or two word sentences.

"Garrus, balcony."

"Scoped and dropped!"

"Thane, crate."

"Commander?"

"Right side."

Most of the time, there was silence in his headset, allowing him to sneak up on and dispatch their enemies without fear of discovery. At the end of the skirmish, Shepard approached him as the body of his latest kill was still cooling at his feet.

"Jesus, Krios. You're hard to keep track of." She said mildly.

He blinked and hummed, unsure of what to say to such a statement.

"Assassin, Shepard." Vakarian said walking up to them with his rifle securely stowed on this back and his hands full of salvaged heat sinks.

Shepard rolled her eyes and took some of the heat sinks from the Turian, passing half to Thane and retaining others for her packs. "Jackass."

They'd barely stowed their ammunitions away when the Commander turned and strode off, using that almost-run that covered so much ground.

Several other times they encountered Eclipse mercenaries attempting to lay a trap for the errant Justicar, and each time they dispatched them efficiently. Her tactics changed with the battlefield. Sometimes Thane went forward, other times he hung back and made judicious use of his sniper rifle. The Commander would usually claim the middle ground, drawing fire and taking out enemies with equal fervor. Once, she looked back at Thane and Vakarian with a wide grin and whispered two words.

"Shadow stalker."

Then she activated a tactical cloak and vanished.

Thane scanned the battleground desperately, trying to divine her target. The most advanced tactical cloak would only last twenty seconds. She could only go so far in that amount of time, but the area wasn't that big. If she got herself into a corner, he might not be able to help her out of it in time, then what would happen to her? Would Liara keep his secret if Shepard was hurt or killed in the middle of a mission? He closed his eyes briefly and brought up an image of the area in his mind, dotted with little lights to represent the enemies. The closest enemy was fifteen yards away, if she took the most direct path that would put her…. He opened his eyes and took two steps to the right. There. Movement caught his eye and he glanced upwards; a sniper, hidden in the shadows, perfectly placed to see her when her cloak dropped. And she probably didn't even know he was there. Dropping to a knee for increased stability, Thane put away his pistol and retrieved his sniper rifle in one smooth motion. Bringing it up, he braced his elbow against his thigh and took aim, breathing steadily. The scope was centered on the sniper's head, fifty meters away. An easy shot. He took two controlled breaths and squeezed ever so gently with his second exhalation. A soft hiss was the only sound marking the passage of his bullet. The head in his scope jerked, then dropped, the rifle in his hands falling over the edge of the balcony it had been balanced on to land at the feet of Commander Shepard just as her cloaking fell away from her, the two asari she'd been after collapsed a dozen feet away. He caught her startled glance upwards through his scope before he pointed it down the battlefield to provide cover fire. She came running back to safety with a large grin on her face.

"I wish you wouldn't do that, Shepard." Vakarian groused, a deep rumble of unhappiness that she probably couldn't hear flavoring his tone.

"No pain, no gain." The Commander shrugged. "That's what you're here for, right? To keep my ass alive?"

Vakarain grunted, but subsided after that.

The cries of the dying sounded across the room, and a hush abruptly fell across the combat zone. Once again, Shepard pinned her teammates with a sharp look, one Thane was better able to interpret this time.

Vakarian climbed one of the nearby stacks of crates and wedged himself in a nook along the wall. Shepard glanced once more at Thane who nodded in understanding. She nodded back and activated her tactical cloak while Thane slid forward through the shadows like oil on water.

The rest of the area was clear, the remainder of their enemies having been killed by a powerful biotic pulse.

"Likely your Justicar," Thane told Shepard softly.

"Come on, Garrus. Path's clear." The Commander said softly into their headsets.

"On my way."

More death cries came from a nearby building and the three of them entered cautiously in time for them to catch the tail end of the Justicar's – Samara – interrogation of an Eclipse officer.

Shepard watched from a position of several feet away as the Justicar hurled her prey out a window. By the time they'd dashed out of the room and around the building, the Justicar was already coolly removing one heeled boot from the mercenary's neck.

"Yes?" She asked calmly as they approached

Thane looked to Shepard with interest, curious to see how she would handle an Asari matriarch Justicar. A particularly lethal combination.

"Are you the Justicar Samara?" Shepard asked in the tone of someone who already knows the answer to their question.

"I am." The blue skinned woman before them said with a regal tilt to her head.

The Commander paused for a moment assessing; her head tilted as well in a gesture Thane was becoming familiar with. "My name is Commander Shepard and I'd like to speak to you."

ooOO00OOoo

The Justicar accompanied them back to the police station, where she was 'respectfully detained' by a resigned Detective Anaya.

"It is to my regret that I bow to the Detective's wishes." Samara said stoically.

"Why's that?" Garrus asked.

"My code requires me to stand down for one day at the request of local law enforcement. After that time has passed, if they still wish to detain me, my code requires that I continue my quest, regardless of their actions." The words were said calmly, and her face was placid, but Thane thought he saw a flicker of regret buried with the depths of her eyes.

"Wait, what?" Shepard asked, startled.

"The code of the Justicar is absolute, Commander." Anaya spoke softly from behind her desk.

"She'd kill you for doing your job?" Shepard asked incredulously. She flicked her eyes at the Matriarch lounging comfortably on the windowsill, including her in the discussion and offering her the chance to answer the question. But the Justicar remained silent.

"You killed all the mercenaries in the alleyway, did you not, Commander?" Anaya asked calmly. "They were only doing their jobs."

"Mercenaries aren't legally sanctioned law enforcement." The human argued.

"The Justicar distinguishes only between the innocent and the guilty. They have a very carefully expressed definition of justice, and anyone who impedes their pursuit of justice crosses the line between innocence and guilt. After one day, I will cross that line, and my life becomes forfeit." The detective said it so calmly; that it was hard to believe she was speaking of her own death.

"When your leaders put you in a position of certain death, you're allowed to refuse." Shepard said hotly.

"Ilos, Shepard." Garrus responded with a glance at Thane.

"I've found myself recalling that I volunteered for this mission. The odds have been remarkably stacked against us." Thane said in response to the Turian's look.

And it was true. Shepard's clever tactical use of their skills allowed for her to control the battlefield in ways few other Commanders historically had managed. That didn't change the fact that she had lead them unflinchingly into battles that no normal trio should have attempted to take on.

"Those are calculated risks, not certain doom." Shepard objected.

"As is mine." Anaya said. "For who else but the great Commander Shepard would be able to get the Justicar what she needs to leave peacefully?"

There was a pause as they all considered that before Shepard turned and addressed the lounging Asari. "What _do_ you need to be able to leave?"

"The shipping manifest for the vessel the Eclipse sisters smuggled my prey out in," came the languid response.

For all that Thane knew the Justicar was hyper-aware of all that was occurring both within and without the police station, she was striving hard to project the visage of indolent repose. She was doing all her code would allow to assuage the legitimate fears of those around her.

Shepard blinked. "That's it?"

"Shepard. I have been tracking this particular quarry for well over two centuries. This is the closest I have ever been to catching her. If you help me continue my search so that the trail does not grow cold and ensure that the Detective does not involuntarily stand in my way, I will assist you in your endeavor." She inclined her head briefly, as if bestowing an honor.

Which she was.

"Sounds good to me. How much time do we have?"

Anaya looked down at her clock and grimaced. "Twenty three hours. Good luck."

Shepard stood to her feet. "All right. Move out, gentlemen."

ooOO00OOoo

It didn't take long for them to be caught up in another skirmish with the Eclipse sisterhood. With the Justicar waiting patiently for their return in the police station, Eclipse not only had one set of enemies to focus their attentions on.

It didn't seem to concern the Commander though. She simply plowed right through them, often times taking the first shot without giving the opposing Asari any forwarding or chance to run.

Thane wondered where the merciful Commander Shepard from the Dantius towers was.

They were silently advancing their way through the building the Sisterhood's leaders were holed up in. Each room they passed was thoroughly checked for mercs and booby traps before they moved on, a practice Thane was in hearty agreement about.

A dark doorway loomed on their right, and Thane stepped toward it. He and Vakarian were trading off searching the rooms, while the other one covered them. Shepard kept a perpetual watch on the corridor.

Thane peered into the darkness, his eyes easily adjusting to the gloom. The right side of the room was empty save for a few chairs scattered haphazardly about. The left side was largely taken up by a set of computer banks. Conspicuously set on the ledge that ran the perimeter of the computers was a pistol. A pair of legs and part of a torso was barely visible at the bottom of the structure. Unwilling to vocalize anything so close to a potential hostile, Thane took a step to the right to clear Vakarian's view, then gestured minutely with his gun at the partially hidden figure. The Turian's sharp, predatory eyes easily picked out the obscured form. It didn't take long for Shepard to be made aware of the fact, and shortly all three of them were crowding into the room. Vakarian turned around and kept his gun trained on the doorway, trusting Thane and his Commander to guard his back while he guarded theirs.

"Alright, whoever you are. Come out with your hands up." Shepard said, her hands steady on her gun.

There was a protracted pause as whoever was hidden considered staying that way. Then –

"A-alright. I'm coming out. I'm unarmed, don't shoot," came a trembling voice.

The first thing they saw was a pair of blue hands emerging from under the counter, held well clear of the gun lying on the edge.

"Out in the open, where I can see you." Shepard said brusquely, gesturing with her gun with a sharp flick.

The Asari stepped quickly, hastening to obey.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Shepard demanded, taking in the Asari's spotless Eclipse uniform.

"My name is Elnora. I'm a new recruit with the Sisterhood. I thought it would be fun to be a mercenary. I'd get to be all bad-ass and have lots of great stories to tell my children when I became a matron." Her eyes flicked over her attackers, taking in their hard eyes and their sides bristling with weapons. "I didn't think it would be like this."

Shepard stared at the Asari for a long moment, a cold, calculating look in her eyes. Finally, she spoke. "How long have you been a member of Eclipse?"

"Less than a month." Elnora responded in a small voice.

The Commander hesitated further, and then dropped her gun. "Get out of here," she told the trembling Asari, "and get out of the mercenary business." She stowed her folded gun away on her hip.

Elnora dropped her hands and stared at the Commander with wide eyes for the briefest of moments. Then she dashed out the door and made her escape.

"Was that wise, Commander?" Thane asked doubtfully. He lowered his gun as the Spectre passed in front of him on her way to Elnora's pistol.

She reached out with one hand, and stroked the abandoned gun softly, as if it was a small animal in need of soothing. "Mercy is not something to be given because it is deserved, but because it is needed."

ooOO00OOoo

Thane spent the remainder of the excursion with half his mind absorbed in contemplation of Shepard's words.

Mercy from a soldier? He knew she was capable of it from her trip up the Towers, but he'd begun to think it was only in relation to helpless civilians. She was so ruthless, almost bloodthirsty, in their battles with the Eclipse sisters. As he became more familiar with her fighting style, he focused les on not screwing up her commands and more on her tactics. She was careful with the their lives, to be sure but she also expected a frightening degree of competency. He'd been able to deliver what she'd asked of him thus far. But each encounter with the enemy was pushed him further from what he knew and closer to waters untested by experience. What would happen to him on the day she asked of him a feat of strength he would be unable to deliver? Would she extend mercy to him then? And how far off was this mythical day, when he was already concerned about its arrival on his very first mission?

A blast of heat and fire rushed by his head to splash against the shields of an oncoming mercenary. Shepard favored the strong incendiary bursts crafted from a combination of her tech and minor biotic skills. She claimed that it was because it burned hot enough to harm even synthetics, but privately, Thane thought it was simply because it burned.

Commander Shepard was something of a pyro.

She was good enough to angle her fire around the corner of whatever object her target was hiding behind. If it was an organic, it had the inevitable result of causing them to cry out in fear and surprise, revealing them as they danced around frantically in an attempt to smother the flames. This unfailingly pulled a dark chuckle out of her right before a well-placed bullet ended the target's life. How could a woman with such a sadistic streak tout such a merciful ideology?

Nervous and uncertain, Thane kept one eye on the approaching enemies and one on Shepard. She was far more unpredictable that he was comfortable with.

In the back of the compound, they found the information Samara wanted. The Asari's name was Morinth, and she had left Illium on the transport ship AML Demeter.

Their mission was complete, and Shepard had Vakarian call Detective Anaya to warn her of their imminent return. While he did so, she poked around in the Sisterhood's computer system some more, eventually digging up a copy of a letter addressed only to 'sister' but signed by none other than Elnora.

Shepard's slight gasp of surprise had both Thane and Garrus clustered around the terminal with her, reading over her shoulder. Elnora had been telling the truth when she'd said she had only been a member of Eclipse for a month. That was the only fact she'd offered them. She was the one responsible for Dakni Kur's murder, and she gleefully described it in detail in the letter. Apparently, she was proud.

When he finished, Thane turned to Shepard to see her wearing the most closed off expression he'd ever seen a human make. The only thing he knew was that she didn't want anyone knowing what she was thinking.

The Turian seemed to anyway. He laid one large talon against the Commander's arm with a gentle touch. "Let's get back, Commander. You still have a Justicar to recruit."

Her only response was a stiff nod.


	9. Chapter 9

Thane settled forward in his chair, folding his hands together in front of his chin. He'd been here for slightly more than a week now. He'd spent the time industriously checking the ship for security leaks and innocuous entrances that a smart assassin could use to enter unannounced. There were always more ways into a space than most people considered. He'd enlisted the help of the local AI, and had found a valuable ally in her. This also afforded him the opportunity to observe the crew unannounced and had managed to figure out many of the people who now called the Normandy home. Most of the crewmen were calm and polite, brilliant – but subdued. Strong personalities had been avoided for support staff, most likely on purpose. There were enough of those in the combat crew.

Soldiers and operatives, scientists and biotics - each had a history and was easy to understand. Thane was so successful at what he did, not because he had a perfect memory, or the ability to look at a problem from many angles at once – though both helped – but because of one simple fact: he understood people. Crossing the lines of species and cultures was easy for him.

He followed his targets for no more than a week at a time, and in that time, he would come to know them like a lover. So the fact that he understood the combat crew of the Normandy as well as he did didn't surprise him at all. He understood Commander Shepard's crew better than they understood themselves. There was one person he didn't understand, only one whose actions and opinions he could not predict.

Commander Shepard.

The daughter of space-faring parents, she'd been born on one of the many space stations littering the galaxy. Joining the alliance as soon as she was able, she'd made a name for herself shortly out of boot camp when her squad had been attacked and killed by a thresher maw – she'd been the only one to survive. He'd been curious about the first human spectre and had looked her story up once upon a time. But the facts didn't tell him who she was.

The human face was the most mobile of all the council races, allowing for the greatest range of expression. Learning the myriad ways they expressed themselves had taken Thane almost a full month after the human/turian Contact War had been fought. But he had little trouble reading their body language now. They weren't so different from drell. Not really.

But Commander Shepard -!

He heard footsteps pause in the hallway outside his room, and he lifted his eyes to the glass in front of him, his thoughts momentarily derailed. With a near silent swoosh, the doors parted to reveal the focus of his thoughts.

"Commander Shepard," he said when she'd taken a few steps into the room and silently stood there, staring at him. "Do you need something?"

She'd been on a few missions since he'd joined the team, but had not requested his presence since Samara had joined the team. He'd made a habit of requesting the after-action reports to learn more about her. Perhaps she would ask him to join her on their next mission…

"Have a few minutes to talk?"

Thane frowned. He'd misjudged her again. "Of course."

She shifted uncomfortably, "About last time…you said you didn't want treatment."

There were other things she could have said. Demands, challenges. Instead, she made it a statement, allowing him to make of it what he would. He appreciated the consideration.

"Ah, yes." He said. He gestured at the seat in front of him, "Would you care to have a seat?"

"No, I'm fine," she responded politely, rubbing at her right shoulder absently, "but thank you." As far as he knew, she'd not been injured there, and he'd studied the after-action reports very carefully. Were the cybernetics used to heal her acting up? Or did she rub at a phantom pain?

It did not matter if she did not trust him at the same table, she would certainly not welcome such a personal question. Very well. "I have an incurable disease, Shepard. The time I have spent in wet climates has allowed bacteria to settle in my lungs, and they are slowly going to drown me until I simply cannot take in oxygen anymore. Then I will die. There is no treatment for this. The bacteria are resistant to all known forms of anti-biotics."

She frowned. "We have a fine medical bay on board the Normandy, as well as a fully stocked tech lab. Mordin is considered one of the most brilliant salarian scientists of his time. Why won't you let them try? Even if they can't cure you, surely they could expand your life expectancy," she asked with a frown still on her face.

Ah, she was hoping to extend his terms of service. No, thank you, Commander Shepard. He _wanted_ to die on her suicide mission. Irikah was waiting.

"I appreciate your concern, but the Illuminated Primacy is working on the problem." He reminded her. This conversation was following the patterns of the last.

She frowned more deeply, crossing her arms as she shifted her weight to her back foot. She made what was normally a defensive gesture for humans look aggressive. "Don't you want to live?" she asked, almost accusingly.

How rude. Thane kept his voice even as he responded, despite his ire, "I do no see the use in bemoaning what is a fact. I have Kepral's. I will die in less than one standard year. These facts do not change with desire."

"You can't just give up!" she argued fiercely, "You should fight."

Thane closed his eyes against her words. She refused to understand him. He could not understand her. It was a bad match.

"If you would excuse me, Shepard. I should get back to my meditations." He opened his outer set of eyelids, studying her expression. She was furious. He saw her nod once, tightly, before stalking out of the room. Thane closed his eyes again and slid back into memories of happier times.

ooOO00OOoo

Commander Shepard stormed away from life support, a black cloud hanging over her head as she grumbled about her newest recruit.

"Stupid, selfish, pigheaded, MALE!"

"Isn't the last one usually considered a good thing, Shepard?" Tali said from her seat in the mess, datapad in hand.

"Oh, Tali," Shepard said in surprise, abruptly deflating. "I didn't know anyone was in here."

"That much is obvious," Tali said wryly. "You don't normally storm around the ship complaining about your crew. You typically reserve that dubious honor for the Illusive Man."

"Yeah, well," Shepard said, sitting down at the table across from Tali, slouching down in the seat comfortably. "I wouldn't complain about him so much if I didn't have spies in the walls and team. He's sent us into one trap already. How can I trust anything he says?" She shook her head. "Great working relationship we have." She trailed off, musing about the various crewmembers she had that she felt she could not trust.

They both sat in silence a moment, before Tali spoke up. "So, who is it that has the gall to be so devilishly male?"

"Hmm?" Shepard said, pulled from her thoughts. "Oh, Thane. He's sick, and _refuses_ to allow either Chakwas or Mordin to look at him."

"He's sick?" Tali tilted her head quizzically. "What does he have?"

"Something called Kepral's Syndrome." Shepard tossed her hand in the air as if waiving the details away. "He says it's not communicable, even to drell. You're fine, don't worry."

"I wasn't worried for myself, Shepard." Tali denied. "I'm dextro-DNA. I _can't_ catch the diseases you could." She paused and appeared to be studying Shepard, who had her brows pulled down into a frown and was studying her nails. "Why does his refusal of treatment make you so angry?"

Shepard looked up at her friend and brought one hand up, resting her chin in it as she let out a gusty sigh. She tilted her head to the side slightly, absently studying the reflection of the lights on Tali's visor as she considered her response.

"I guess…" she began. "Because of how fatalistic it is. I know going through the Omega Four relay is a suicide mission – and, honestly, some of our other missions aren't much better – but I have no intention of dying again." She stopped as a light shudder ran through her frame. "He told me that he has eight to twelve months left to live, and Tali, he sounded so _calm_ when he said it. Like he was talking about the sunny weather of another planet." Shepard reached into her pocket and pulled out a small pad of paper. Most societies used datapads like the one in Tali's hand, but enough people still preferred beaten wood pulp that it wasn't terribly hard to find. She ripped off a piece and began to fold it absently. The pad of paper went back in her pocket.

"Wait." Tali held up a hand. "He told you how long he has to live?"

"Yeah. Less than a year. Why?" Shepard asked.

"Well, other than being incredibly sad, do you realize what that meant?" Tali picked up the abandoned datapad in front of her and used it to gesture at the life support doors. "He's already been to see a doctor, Shepard. That's how he got the estimate. He hasn't given up on life, he's simply run out of options." She returned the datapad to the table and folded her hands in front of her, leaning over them to give her words weight. "Don't condemn a dying man for the peace he has found in the face of his own mortality. Would that we could all accept things as gracefully as that."

Shepard sat back, her hands stilling as she looked at Tali as if she'd just been blindsided.

"Oh, god. I'm a dumbass." She said finally, chagrin suffusing her tone. "I_ knew_ he'd already been to a doctor. How else does he know what it is? I just got so caught up in being mad at him for not trying, that I never considered the fact that maybe he already _had_." Shepard groaned and hunched over, burying her face in her hands. "I am such an idiot." She slid two fingers over and peered up at Tali from the cracks between them. "I'm going to have to apologize to him, aren't I?"

"Yep!" Tali said cheerfully, leaning back in her seat, as she once again picked up her datapad.

Shepard groaned again and hid her face, "don' wanna." Her voice was muffled by her hands, "an' you don' hafta be so bloody cheerful about it."

Tali just laughed and reached out to pat the top of Shepard's head with her free hand. "It'll be good for you," she told her captain. "You spend too much time being right."

Shepard's response was completely muffled, but Tali laughed again anyway, sure that it had been appropriately surly. "I'm sure. Now, go back to life support and eat crow."

Shepard raised her head in shock. "How do you know that phrase? It's so old, most _humans_ don't know it."

Commander Shepard couldn't see it, but she knew that Tali was smiling at her. "Because, I happen to be well acquainted with one of the few humans who does. And," she continued, laughter in her tone, "you're stalling. Go apologize to the poor man before he decides you're the savage most non-humans have named you."

"I'm not a savage." Shepard grumbled. "I shower at _least_ twice a month. That's positively hygienic!"

"Go!" Tali laughed, pointing imperiously at the life support door.

"All right, all right." Shepard brought her hands up in a gesture of surrender. "I'm going."

She stood from the table and headed to the small kitchen built into the wall. Small, one-person meals were always kept in the cabinets for those few crewmen who kept odd hours and missed mealtimes, herself included. Retrieving one of them, she put it into the processor to reconstitute. She pulled the steaming bowl of soup out and held it gingerly in her hands.

Waggling her head at Tali in an approximation of a wave, Shepard called out good-bye and headed for life support, leaving the small origami figure she'd created on the table in front of Tali. Shepard paused when she reached the door. With her hands occupied with the bowl, she could not activate the palm lock to open the door.

EDI popped up in the imager next to her, "Would you like me to open the doors to life support for you, Shepard?" she asked helpfully.

The Commander opened her mouth to respond in the affirmative when a thought flashed across her brain. Garrus worked in the main battery, and Tali worked in engineering. Neither of them slept there, however. They each had private quarters to retreat to when the day was done. Thane had no such thing. All his personal effects were here. Life support _was_ his private quarters. How hypocritical of her would it be to enter his private rooms without his permission so she could as his forgiveness?

"No, EDI," she replied. "Would you, instead, ask Thane if I might enter? These are his private quarters after all."

"Understood, Shepard. Logging you out." The little blue avatar disappeared and there was a pause before she faintly heard EDI say something on the other side of the door. She didn't hear any response, but it was only a moment before the door opened to reveal Thane.

He gave her a look of polite inquiry. "Shepard," he said, stepping to the side, "would you care to come in?"

"Yes, thank you," she replied gratefully. Stepping into the room, she walked quickly over to the table where he usually sat and placed the hot bowl down. Quickly removing her fingers, Shepard waved them in the air in an effort to cool off the burns she had acquired. "Sorry," she said, turning to face Thane where he remained by the door. "It's a little hot. I realized that you missed dinner today and thought you might be hungry."

Thane studied his Commander where she stood grinning sheepishly by the table. She argues with him, essentially calls him a coward, and stalks off, only to come back minutes later with food?

Shaking his head slightly, Thane moved foreword, approaching the confusing woman and her offer of sustenance. "I…thank you."

Her smile brightened and she stepped to the side, gesturing for him to take his normal seat. He did so, and even took a small, polite sip of the soup she had brought him while she fidgeted with the hem of her jacket. What did she want?

He broke the silence, "Commander, is there something you need?"

"No. Well…I'm sorry."

Thane was surprised. She came back to ask his forgiveness? He looked down at the flavorless broth she had brought him. Was this a peace offering, then? Was this how humans showed contrition?

She took a deep breath and let it out, forcing her hands to her sides. Thane could see the tension in the set of her jaw and shoulders. "Honestly, I came here to apologize," She admitted in a humble tone. "I have no right to question your judgment on the matter of your disease. If I had been paying attention, I would have known that you've already been to a doctor." Her face twisted sourly. "That is one of my bad habits, I think. When someone tells me something I don't like, I just stop listening."

This was certainly not what he'd expected when EDI had told him that Commander Shepard was asking for his permission to enter life support. Imagine, the Savior of the Citadel asking for permission to enter a room on her own vessel!

"Commander, this –" he swallowed around his discomfort at the situation. "This is unnecessary."

She flashed him a quick grin before returning to her previously contrite expression. "I'm afraid I'll have to disagree with you again, Mr. Krios. It is very necessary. I have been assured that eating crow is good for the soul."

Thane looked down at his soup and stirred it carefully. "This is…crow?" he asked cautiously.

There was a pause, and then a soft snicker. Thane turned his head to look at his Commander and narrowed his eyes at her oh-so-innocent expression. She couldn't keep it up, however, and soon the snicker was back with friends. Then it turned to a chuckle, which evolved into a full body laugh.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she gasped. "I don't know what that face means to drell, but to me, you looked so _worried_. Like I'd hunted down a baby crow and put it in your soup."

Thane raised his eyebrow ridges in a gesture of patience and waited for her to regain control of herself.

"Don't worry, Thane," she assured him, still chuckling. "Your soup is crow free. I wasn't talking about you."

"Then who were you speaking of, Commander?" Why was everything with this woman so complicated? She speaks of 'eating crow' and it is not in reference to the only person eating?

"Me."

And, just like that, her laughter was gone. Her eyes lowered to his hands where they lay on the table. Her fingers moved, spreading apart as far as they would go, her arms lifting slightly from her sides. It was a gesture he'd seen no human but her make, and he could attach no meaning to it, though he was sure it had one. "I was talking about me. When a human speaks of 'eating crow', they are talking about apologizing for something that they are particularly embarrassed about." She raised her eyes to his and their green depths arrested Thane once again. "I am sorry for judging you. It was not my place. I still do not agree with your decision, but I understand it, I think. I will not bother you about it again."

She inclined her head in his direction and then turned away, slipping quietly towards the door. She wasn't waiting for him to accept her apology. Perhaps she didn't expect him to.

"Shepard," Thane said hurriedly. Standing to his feet, he extended a hand towards her, hoping to slow her exit from his quarters. When she paused and looked at him, he lowered his arm, adopting his accustomed military pose. "Thank you," he said simply.

She nodded once, and then left.

Thane turned to look at the soup she had brought him. If she confused her enemies half as much as she confused him, it was no wonder she was such a great Commander.


	10. Chapter 10

Thane sighed and opened his eyes. Only a few hours had passed since Commander Shepard had swept in and out of his room on a whirlwind of confusion. After her departure, he'd fully intended on continuing to relive his memories of the time he'd spent with Irikah. Instead of sunset eyes, however, he saw a pair that was the deep green of the sea.

Commander Shepard's actions disturbed him more than he'd thought. He found himself reviewing all of the information he knew about her, all the extraneous facts he'd learned about her life and history. He even pulled up the first memory he had of her, the interview he'd seen when she'd first been made a spectre.

None of it had served to explain her actions to him any better.

He'd given up for now, pulling himself from his circular train of thoughts to stare bleakly at the Normandy's core. Boredom drove him to his feet; restlessness took him out of his room to prowl the rest of the ship, hungry for a distraction.

They were headed for Capek, where a factory was putting out mechs with tainted programming. Shepard had decided that they would have the time to shut down the factory. Miranda had objected to, yet another, detour from the main objective, but Shepard had countered with an interesting argument.

She'd waited patiently for Miranda to finish speaking, and then asked one simple question. "Why did you bring me back?" One hand on her hip, the other dangling at her side with her head cocked ever so slightly, she began with the first step that would tear Miranda's argument apart. As if she didn't know her accomplishments. As if her qualifications were less than stellar.

As if she had no clue.

Miranda had blinked, then blustered. "You're Commander Shepard!"

"Yes, I am." Said with calm confidence. Everyone in the room knew that, with those three words, she had acknowledged every trait Cerberus thought deserving of salvage – and dismissed it. "So what?"

"Wha-?" Miranda had been taken aback. "You're the first human spectre! The Hero of the Citadel! You've done things others have only dreamed of!"

"So has Garrus," Shepard had said quietly. "He did more for the people of Omega in the two years I was dead than I've ever done for any of the crews I served with for years. Jack has survived horrors I can only imagine. Grunt has a physiology and a biological history far outstripping us all. Tali's skill with tech is unmatched, even amongst the flotilla." She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, "Do I need to continue?"

"I get the point, Shepard." Miranda growled.

"No, you don't. Or you wouldn't still be angry." She uncrossed her arms and began to talk, her hands waving about, punctuating her words. "It's my vision, Miranda. I've always seen things just a little differently, and that's what gives me an edge. Want to know what I see right now? A faulty factory putting out flawed mechs that see anything biological as an automatic threat. I see a factory with dead workers, endlessly pumping out death machines the longer it is active. I see computerized shipping manifests and unsuspecting buyers placing orders online. I see us going through the relay right now and coming back to find the galaxy decimated by a different set of death machines. An extremist view, I know." She held up a hand to forestall Miranda's argument. "But you didn't bring me back for my tactical abilities, or my history, or my physiology, or my skills. You brought me back for my vision, and it has been dialed straight into 'paranoid' since Akuze." She lowered her hand, giving Miranda leave to speak.

"I understand, Commander. We must care for the troubles at home before we go away, or there might not be a home to come back to."

Shepard nodded, "Exactly."

They left for Capek.

They would be almost halfway there now, still too early for Shepard to have decided whom she would be taking with her. Perhaps, if he asked, she would allow him to travel with her. Taking out a few hundred mechs sounded like a good idea right now.

"EDI?" Thane called, approaching the nearest holographic image.

"Yes, Sere Krios?"

"Would you be so kind as to tell me the location of Commander Shepard? I wish to speak with her."

"Commander Shepard is currently in her personal quarters" A pause. "She indicates that you may visit her. Voice patterns suggest she is curious about your visit."

"You have my thanks." Thane bowed respectfully to EDI's avatar and headed for the elevator. Behind him, it remained lit for a long moment before finally shutting off.

Thane knocked respectfully on the door once before waving his hand in front of the palm lock and entering the room. He paused just across the threshold, allowing his eyes to adjust. After the bright, sterile lights of the hallway, the relative gloom of Shepard's personal quarters came as a surprise.

Soft music played in the background, while the Commander sat at her desk to his right, working on her personal terminal. A picture of a dark-haired human male sat at her elbow, the wall beyond was decorated with medals acknowledging her achievements. Every spare inch of her desk not actively being used for work was covered in little paper animals. A few sat on the floor, and as Shepard turned to face him, her elbow knocked a few more off to join their brethren in the dust. She appeared not to notice.

"Thane," she said, lowering a datapad, "how can I help you?"

Thane folded his hands behind his back, glancing down briefly at the delicate creations littering her workspace. With every other area in her quarters so sterile, why was it that these crafts were allowed to spill unchecked across her desk? "We will be arriving at the factory tomorrow. If you have not already picked your crew, I would like to offer my services."

She blinked, "You want to help me shut down the factory?"

"Yes."

"Why?" The hand not resting on the desk flexed, her fingers spreading unnaturally wide in what Thane was coming to believe was an unconscious gesture.

He was taken aback. She wanted his reasons? None of his previous clients wished to know _why_ he had accepted their commission, they were simply glad that he had.

"I was impressed with your desire to 'care for things at home' before we depart. It meshes well with my desire to make the galaxy brighter." He finally said, avoiding the truth of his death in her gaze.

She smiled slightly, cocking her head to the side. He'd never seen a human make that combination of gestures before.

"Really? That's good to hear. I don't want to spend this whole trip validating myself to everyone. For all that Miranda keeps claiming that Cerberus brought me back because I'm the only one that can do this, she spends a lot of time arguing with me about the how's and why's of my decisions." She pursed her lips. "Maybe she's testing me? She seemed really dissatisfied with the 'field test' they did after I woke up."

Why was she telling him this? It was the wrong sort of conversation to have with a subordinate. Still, it seemed like something that she had put a lot of thought behind. He knew that her assessment of Operative Lawson was incorrect. Should he say something? He did not want to overstep his bounds. Perhaps he should…he shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts. Irikah would have chastised him for not stepping in to help when he had the ability to do so.

"Operative Lawson is not attempting to undermine your authority, Commander," he said quietly. "Nor is she attempting to test you."

Shepard drummed her fingers on the table absently as she considered his words, the fingers of her other hand relaxed. "Then what _is_ she trying to do?"

"She has no goal, Shepard. She is merely unaccustomed to not being in charge of whatever organization she is a part of. She had been trained to lead, probably from a young age, and cannot quite relinquish that power. She truly does believe that you are the only one who can have a hope of accomplishing this." Thane cast his eyes to the side, studying the shadows under her desk. Her eyes, lit by the blue light from the empty fish tank looked the exact shade the sea had been the day Irikah had been given to it. He hid from her eyes, unable to handle the truth he would see there, and he hid from the memories they evoked. He was good at hiding.

The drumming of her fingers stopped. "You think she is unhappy because she has been relegated to the role of follower?"

Thane shifted his eyes again, turning his head to the left to look out over her bedroom. She had a large bed for such a small woman, the benefits of being the Commander. "Not unhappy, merely unable to cope. For two years, she was in charge of you, now the reverse is true. She is unaccustomed to being wrong. Every time you make a decision contrary to what she would have done, she feels you are telling her she is incorrect."

It was Shepard's turn to be taken aback. "That's a lot of information, Krios. She told you all that?"

Thane felt his eyes drawn back to her against his will. She thought Operative Lawson spoke to him of her troubles? "Of course not, Commander. Operative Lawson is a highly private individual and mixes with the crew even less often than you do."

"If she is so private, how do you know what she is thinking?" She leaned back in her chair, adopting a teasing tone, one of her elbows flaring out to the side expressively. "Making friends, Krios? Just keep the gymnastics behind doors. And I don't want to catch you sucking face in the hallway."

Thane rumbled his amusement, though he kept his face bland, " 'Sucking face', Shepard? How crude. I assure you, I would never be so clumsy in my affections."

She chuckled, apparently delighted with his response. "I can't imagine that you would," she mumbled under her breath, perhaps hoping that he wouldn't hear her.

Too bad for her drell had better hearing than she thought, coupled with his training, and he rarely missed anything. "I am sorry, Commander, what did you say?" Let her keep some illusions.

"Nothing, nothing." She said hurriedly, waving a hand in the air. "So, you want to come with me for the factory run? You're welcome to. Any preference for our third?"

Thane wondered if she allowed all her squad mates to choose her team. "I'm sure whomever you pick would be appropriate," he demurred.

"Hmm, I'm sure." She echoed, a smile on her face. "Was there anything else?"

He got the feeling that his was a genuine inquiry and not a dismissal. "No, thank you, Shepard. I look forward to serving with you tomorrow." He bowed quietly to her, and left.

ooOO00OOoo

Thane held his breath as he lined up the shot, slowly exhaling as he pulled the trigger, the rifle-rock steady in his hands. A soft hiss of displaced air, the clang of metal on metal, and one of the mechs was down, sparks arching from the hole he had punched in its 'face' with the bullet.

He withdrew to reload, shots ricocheting off the edge of the container he was perched on. A flurry of shots, and the crackle of Shepard's incinerate, and the mechs redirected their attention to the two squat mates he had left below.

He emerged again with his rifle. Hold, track, squeeze, release, and another mech was down. As there was a pause in the flood of mechs, Shepard sent Grunt ahead, nodding at Thane in a gesture he took to mean 'back Grunt up'. He followed in the young krogan's wake, clearing out the mechs he failed to disable in his headlong charges.

The stream of oncoming mechs began to thicken again, and Shepard reeled Grunt in before they became separated. Grunt wasn't happy, but it was obvious to Thane that Shepard was a more than competent battlefield commander. She let Grunt lead, allowing the tank-like krogan to take the brunt of the fire, while she and Thane took out mechs with pinpoint accuracy. When he tired, his regeneration tasked almost to the max, she planted him behind a crate to recover, pinning him there with a single look.

In mere minutes Grunt was up again, pushing forward with a cry of rage. They never gained ground unless Grunt was leading, a move that was calculated to boost his morale and confidence. Grunt responded positively to the gesture, falling back willingly when she called, sure in the knowledge that he would soon be back in the thick of things.

Thane for his part would scout ahead, peering as far down the crates as he could. Often, he would clear out enemies on the far side of a blind corner by simply leaping atop the stack in question and pointing his gun down. Mechs looked up even less than sapient species.

Half an hour later, and they were through. A simple press of a button, and the mission was complete.

"Well done, gents!" Shepard said cheerfully, stepping back out of the room. "Now all we have to do is get out of here."

The walk back took almost as long as the fight forward had. Shepard and Grunt stopped by each destroyed mech, stripping it of weapons and valuable parts. Shepard pulled out an oversized mesh bag from her pocket, and the two of them gleefully stuffed it full of the salvaged parts. Thane watched for a while, bemused, before heading off on his own. At one point the path had diverged, and he'd seen a package of Element Zero. Retrieving it, he approached Shepard and solemnly passed it over.

"Eezo!" She said, all but pouncing on him. "Now I can upgrade Jack's biotic amp!" She looked at him with a genuine smile, and he felt his neck ridges flush. She was too busy cooing over the eezo to notice, however. "Thanks, Krios."

Thane merely nodded and followed the other two back to the Normandy. Bad enough that she did things he couldn't predict, but now she was eliciting responses from him that he didn't understand.

ooOO00OOoo

Shepard was still gloating over the spoils they'd acquired when Kelly caught her attention from across the CIC.

"Commander Shepard?"

"Yes, Kelly?" Shepard looked up from where she was rooting around in the bag.

"You have unread messages at your private terminal."

Shepard resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She always had unread messages. For a dead woman, she sure got a lot of mail. "Who is it from?" she asked, still moving towards the Armory. Jacob would help her sort through it all.

"Councilor Anderson." Kelly told her sympathetically. Since her return two months ago, he'd sent Shepard half a dozen messages, each more demanding than the last. He wanted her to answer some questions as to where she'd been the last two years.

"Alright." Shepard said, sighting gustily, before she disappeared into the Armory. She was back in a few moments, approaching the galaxy map with a rueful smile on her face. "I suppose I can't run anymore."

"No, ma'am," Kelly said, smothering a laugh. For all her courage in battle, Commander Shepard was a bit of a wuss when it came to dealing with interpersonal issues.

She set a course for the Citadel and disappeared back into the armory, purposefully forgetting to read Councilor Anderson's latest message.

ooOO00OOoo

Author's Note: I figured we could all use a little bit of Thane goodness by now.


	11. Chapter 11

Less than a week later, the Normandy pulled into dock at the Citadel. Shepard couldn't quite suppress the light shudder that ran through her frame. The last time she had set foot upon the Citadel, she had been chasing Saren through the conduit. Almost a year before that, she'd been arguing with the council, trying to convince them of a galactic threat. This time would be different, she told herself. She'd proven herself with Sovereign, this time they would listen.

Naturally, they didn't.

Ken and Gabby in engineering had warned her. Jacob and Joker, too. Every time she turned around someone was telling her that the Council, and most of the citizens of Council space, simply didn't believe her about the Reapers. They said she'd been tricked by Saren, and now by Cerberus.

Fools.

They thought she'd switched sides? She was never been on their side to begin with. All she cared about was staying alive. If she had to fight off the Reapers single-handedly and drag the totality of the galactic community into the future kicking and screaming…so be it.

Returning to the Normandy, Shepard headed straight for her personal quarters. Normally she would stop and chat with her crew, making detours down to the lower decks to speak with everyone, but she was in a foul mood and didn't want to speak with anyone. Besides, she'd granted them shore leave. Who in their right mind would stick around to listen to her grump about the Council when they could be off getting lucky?

ooOO00OOoo

Thane slid easily through the C-Sec checkpoint. For all the increased security, he found more holes in the net to slip through now than in previous years.

It had been ten years since he had last been on the Citadel. He'd not set foot on the giant space station since just after his quest for vengeance had begun. He'd been sloppy then, too filled with rage and grief to hunt his prey properly, and he'd been spotted attempting to hide one of the many cadavers he had created in what had since been called The Bachjret Butchery. The observer had not seen his face, but they _had_ known he was a Drell.

Thane had extracted the information he'd needed and left quickly for Omega; where he had instigate a second killing spree dubbed "The One-hour Massacre". It had been a dark time for him then, with his body disconnected from his soul. When he'd come to, the paranoia that had been trained into him kept him from returning to either commune of society. But the fear had largely diminished now; ten years was a long enough time for other species to forget. He could probably walk past the witness on the street, and they wouldn't know him. For all that he grew tired of repeating himself at times, the poor memories of the other species was most often fortuitous.

It didn't take him long to settle back into the rhythm of the place, the changes from Sovereign's attack noted and filed away for reference should he need it. His thoughts turned to Kolyat, as they so often did, and he recalled that Kolyat had his eighteenth birthday not long ago. He hoped Kolyat had spent it with someone special.

Perhaps he should go update the information package he'd left years ago with the Volus banker. The quest with Commander Shepard was surely noteworthy enough to go inside. Perhaps Kolyat would think less harshly of him when he got it after Thane's death if he knew his father had died fighting for galactic peace.

Navigating the Citadel was easy; nothing had changed on this end of the wards. Within minutes he was standing outside his banker's shop. The Volus had done well for himself if the appearance of the place was anything to go by.

Stepping inside, Thane was greeted by several assistants that hadn't been there previously. He gave his name and asked to speak to his banker, a smart but nervous Volus by the name of Barla Von. His side trade as an informant for the Shadow Broker was an asset in Thane's eyes. Who would know better when an assassin had died, than an agent of the largest information broker of the galaxy?

When he entered the private meeting room with Barla Von, however, Thane noticed that the Volus was much more agitated than he should have been, constantly twitching all over.

"Barla Von," he nodded to his banker as he scanned the room for traps.

"Krios!" Barla Von replied. His breather made it more difficult to tell, but Thane could tell that even his voice wavered. "So good to see you. Would you care to take a seat?"

"No, thank you." Thane declined the offer, folding his arms behind his back.

"Oh, yes. Very well then." Barla Von tittered, his hands compulsively shuffling and reshaping the various stacks of paper scattered about his desk. "What can I do to help you, then?"

Thane narrowed his eyes at the Volus. "I am here to update the package I left in your hands for my son in the event of my death."

"Ah, yes. The package. About that…" The nervous tittering got worse. "It isn't, exactly, still in my care."

Thane's displeasure rippled through the room, a sound that Barla Von could hear, and it clearly evoked a primal fear in him.

"Where – exactly - is it, if not in your care where I left it?" Thane had never favored using intimidation to get what he wanted, but he couldn't deny the visceral satisfaction he got from frightening the Volus.

"You must understand, Krios. You've been retired from active contracts for more than a decade now. All requests have been automatically shunted to other assassins by your VI. No one knew where you were, or if you were even still alive. I was already thinking of sending the package out when I got this." He handed over a datapad with an obituary from the dome Kolyat was living on Kahje. Highlighted in blue light was one specific line:

_My father was a great man, and we will miss him greatly. ~Kolyat_

Thane's growl intensified, and Barla Von began speaking quickly, hoping to appease the Galaxy's Greatest Assassin before he became even angrier. "I did some research and, sure enough, it's your boy talking. The father's name is never mentioned, but I didn't think it unusual, given how careful you are. What was I supposed to do? By all accounts, you were dead. So, I sent off the package a few days ago."

With an effort of will Thane controlled himself, his growl dying away as he forced himself to be calm. A few heartbeats later, he'd managed to relax all of the muscles in his neck and back that had knotted with tension.

What Barla Von claimed had happened was entirely possible. It could be an honest mistake. Every species made them; none was infallible. It was reasonable. It was logical.

It was a lie.

Thane had no proof, no way of validating his bone-deep certainty, but he _knew_ that Barla Von had been looking for any semi-plausible reason to send off Kolyat's package for years. When he'd first decided to create the parcel for Kolyat, he'd searched for an individual he could entrust with the legacy he intended to leave for his son. In the end, he'd settled on Barla Von. The Volus had seemed the least corrupt person with the resources necessary to track Thane's movements well enough to determine whether or not he'd died. But the sum he'd left to be delivered to the banker was substantial, and it was likely a trial for the Volus to know the money was sitting just out of reach for so long. Barla Von could have decided to send the package early to get his hands on the waiting credits, or he could have somehow obtained the credits first and only belatedly sent the package. It could even be sitting in the safe-room across the Citadel where Thane had left it, and Barla Von could order it shipped as soon as Thane left the meeting. He couldn't truly be sure _why_ Kolyat would get the package early – or even _when_ it would arrive – all Thane knew was that Kolyat would be getting it far too soon.

"I understand," Thane replied calmly. "Thank you for your services. Should I return, you will not see me again." Thane turned on his heel and left the room, his almost-threat echoing in the suddenly silent room as the Volus forgot to breath.

ooOO00OOoo

Thane returned immediately to the Normandy. His room in life support was his only refuge, given that he would reside on the Normandy as long as his open-contract with Shepard remained in effect. He folded himself into his chair, closing his eyes as he reviewed what he'd learned.

Kolyat's uncle was dead. A good Drell and a good friend – once upon a time – named Indra, he'd managed to gain enough of Kolyat's trust and affection that he'd called the man 'father' in his eulogy. The thought both pained and comforted him. The fact that Kolyat no longer considered Thane to be his father was achingly obvious, but he was glad that his son had chosen such an admirable man as a substitute. Thane sent up a prayer to Kalahira for the care Indra's soul.

What was he to do? The information package was on its way to Kolyat, far beyond his reach or ability to stop now. Kolyat was a smart boy; he would know that despite the wording of Thane's letter: _If you are reading this, then I am dead, and I want you to know that I always loved you,_ Thane Krios wasn't dead and the letter had been sent to him because of his uncle's death. What would Kolyat do with the information it contained?

The package contained no information that could be used to indicate the identities of Thane's clients or the targets he'd killed, but it would tell Kolyat a little about Thane's training and how he'd met Irikah. There were several objects inside, knickknacks and gifts Thane had purchased for Kolyat over the years and never sent off, as well as a holo of himself and a drala'fa he'd foolishly included with the wish that Kolyat might show it to someone and claim Thane as 'my father'. Thane had also put in more important items like Kolyat's family necklace from when he'd still lived with Thane and Irikah, Most significantly, there was the jacket typically worn by Drell males after reaching maturity. It was traditionally a gift given by the patriarch of the family, and it was the one thing he had not wanted Indra to take his place in providing. Perhaps it was selfish of Thane to feel so.

But none of these things would lead Kolyat to Thane himself. He wasn't sure how to feel about that. Thane brought up his omni-tool and sent a small query to Irikah's sister, an acknowledgement and concern for her grief as well as a warning and an apology for the nature of the package that was on its way. She was the only one who knew anything close to the truth about what had happened. She didn't know his profession, but she knew he'd been mad with grief when he'd dropped Kolyat off on her doorstep all those years ago. She was the only person alive who'd ever seen him cry.

She'd found one of Thane's personal mail accounts somehow, and sent him occasional updates on Kolyat's life. Although he never responded, and always deleted the messages, he treasured the pictures they painted for him of his son. For all that she had done for him over the years, he owed her the courtesy of his sympathy, as well as a warning of the storm brewing on the horizon. Thane gave her leave to tell Kolyat as much or as little about him as she wanted. She didn't know many of his secrets anyway, and perhaps it would soften the blow of Kolyat's anger.

He closed his omni-tool and settled into silence, his mind blessedly blank. There was nothing for him to do now but wait for Kolyat to receive the package.

ooOO00OOoo

Author's Note: This chapter has been beta'ed by Braxy29 and BlackAquoKat. Thanks so much for helping me clean it up, dears!


	12. Chapter 12

03/26/2012

Chapter 12

They'd just left Citadel space and were on their way to the mass relay when Shepard finally emerged from her room. She'd locked herself inside for the past four hours researching viable planets for gathering resources, and was trying to tell herself that the Council's disbelief was expected. That it was good to be a Spectre again. That their refusal to help hadn't hurt. All true.

Except the last.

Knowing she needed to get out of her funk, Shepard traveled the ship visiting her crew, distracting herself with casual conversation. Her first stop was the CIC and the cockpit. Joker was usually good for a laugh, but all he would talk about was how he fractured his thumb on EDI's mute button. Slightly annoyed, Shepard returned to the elevator and went down a floor. As the doors to the crew deck opened, Shepard remembered the bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy she'd bought for Dr. Chakwas. Pressing the button for the Loft, Shepard returned to her cabin and retrieved the bottle. Slightly cheered at the prospect of delivering the brandy, Shepard entered the Medical Bay with the alcohol hidden behind her back and a large cheesy grin on her face.

"Hey, Doc!" she called cheerfully.

"Commander," Dr. Chakwas greeted, turning around in her chair, "what can I do for you?"

"I've got something for you, wanna guess what it is?"

Dr. Chakwas' eyes narrowed thoughtfully, but before she could respond, Shepard pulled the bottle out from behind her back. Instantly, Chakwas' face lit up with a delighted grin. "Serrice Ice Brandy?" she said exultantly. "That's wonderful! Why don't we open it right here and now? I don't want another bottle to go to waste."

"You open the bottle, Doc. I'll get the glasses." Shepard said.

ooOO00OOoo

"I thought Alenko had broken his neck, but Jenkins pops up and says, 'That was awesome!'" Chakwas stood to her feet and threw her hands up in the air in mimicry of Jenkins all those years ago. "Ah," she said, settling herself back into her chair with a sigh. "That's what I love about the Alliance. Cerberus lacks the same…enthusiasm."

Shepard felt her throat tighten. Alenko and Jenkins were both dead, victims of Saren's insanity. And her own. She should never have let Jenkins go first on Eden Prime. She was the Commanding Officer, the N7, the one who failed to restrain her over-eager recruit – and got him killed in the process. And Kaiden…she killed him when she chose to save Ashley.

"…need a toast." Shepard heard Dr. Chakwas say.

Shepard stared down at the dregs of liquid in her glass, swirling it around morosely. So many dead and dying. Eden Prime, Freedom's Progress, and Horizon were all victims of the Reapers, stripped bare of their populations along with dozens of other human colonies she didn't know the names of. "How about a toast to those who are gone?" she said eventually, raising her eyes and her glass to the woman seated across from her.

Dr. Chakwas smiled sadly through her inebriation. "A fine toast. To those who are gone." She clinked her glass against Shepard's and swallowed it down with an elegant toss of her head.

Half an hour later, Shepard found herself helping Dr. Chakwas up onto a table nearby, the older woman slurring drunken words in her sleep. She patted the Doctor on the shoulder affectionately. At least Chakwas still trusted her. Enough to drink herself unconscious, Shepard thought with a small smile. That was more than _some_ people were willing to give her.

When they'd met up on Horizon, Ashley had been understandably hurt with how the two of them had split ways. Death was a hell of a way of ending a friendship. But instead of listening to her former Commander (and best friend), Ashley simply spat questions and accusations at Shepard. "Where were you? Why didn't you contact me? I thought you were dead! How could you betray the Alliance and work for Cerberus?"

Well, Ashley was right. Shepard _had_ been dead. Her heart had stopped and her brain had shut down and – _dammit,_ it wasn't her _fault_ that Cerberus had brought her back! Or that once again, neither the Alliance nor the Council would listen to her about the Reapers. She would work with whoever worked with her, and right now that was Cerberus. This thing was bigger than old grudges and questionable histories.

Did Ashley think Shepard had forgotten who Cerberus was or what they'd done? Not likely. Perhaps _Ashley_ had forgotten that it was _Cerberus_ who set up the trap for her squad on Akuze. _They_ killed her squad, not the thresher maw. All those friends – dead.

Her squad mates were the first to accept her for what she could do, instead of who her parents were. Being the daughter of two decorated soldiers wasn't easy, especially since she had been bullheaded enough to follow in their footsteps and enter the military. Ashley knew what it was like to spend her life trying to step past her progenitors' shadows. They both struggled with their families' backgrounds, and that struggle bred an understanding between them. Ash easily saw the woman behind the name Shepard, just as Shepard only saw Ashley. But the moment the newly promoted Operations Chief had seen Shepard again on Horizon, she had accused her old commanding officer of being a traitor.

She couldn't see that Shepard had been _trying_ to contact her_. _Every time Shepard encountered someone who might know about her old crew, Ash's name was always the first off her lips. She asked so many people: Joker, Chakwas, Tali, Garrus, and Anderson. Of all of them, Anderson was the only one who'd known Ashley's whereabouts and he wouldn't tell her. Said it was 'classified'. Hadn't she been reinstated as a Spectre? Didn't that give her all the clearance she needed? But no, her renewed status was just a placating gesture meant to appease the Savior of the Citadel. The Council was afraid of her because of the things she'd seen and done.

Thane was right, she _had_ made a career out of doing the impossible, and the universe made a career out of stepping on her accomplishments. Well, fuck 'em. She didn't need the Council, with their empty gestures and emptier words. She didn't need the Alliance either, with their offer of promotion if she would just come back into the fold and stop chasing after the Reapers. Here little girl, we have a sweet for you. Just come home and stop acting crazy.

Fuck 'em.

Turning away from Chakwas, Shepard left the infirmary, looking for something to pull her out of the tailspin of negativity she'd begun to drown in. This couldn't be good for her ulcer.

Shepard paused in the mess, the room swimming around her slightly. She wasn't quite drunk, but she was tipsy as hell, and she _really_ didn't want to be alone. There were only four people on the ship right now who might know how she felt and could talk her out of her increasingly foul mood. Chakwas was the closest, but…indisposed. Tali was a long elevator ride and a short walk away; Joker was a long elevator ride and an even longer walk away. She turned to the right. Garrus it was.

She liked him best anyway.

"Garrus!" she called when the doors to the main battery opened. "You got a minute to-" She blinked at the empty room in front of her. "Where's Garrus?"

EDI popped up at her console nearby. "Mr. Vakarian is currently resting in his private quarters, Commander."

Shepard stared dumbly at the glowing ball. "Why would he do that?"

"All biologicals need sleep, Shepard."

"I know that," Shepard snapped. AI's and their inability to recognize sarcasm. "It's just that he's always up here calibrating something. I thought I was going to have to drag him away from the battery by his, uh, fringe."

"I would advise against touching a Turian's fringe, Commander. It is considered highly personal to do so."

"I wasn't…I mean I don't…" Shepard sighed and flopped down on the oversized crate wedged in the corner. "EDI, how do I get myself into these messes?"

There was a pause as EDI considered the question. Great, her life was so complicated she'd stumped a computer.

"Which messes are you speaking of, Shepard?"

The Commander waved her hand negligently in the air in the general direction of the avatar. "Any of them, all of them. Take your pick. I've got plenty to choose from."

"I am not certain – " The AI began.

"Let's go down the list, shall we?" Shepard interrupted with false cheer. "Item number one: I died. The final rest, the big stiff time, sleeping with the fishes, dead. No fix. No cure. The End." She paused. "Only it wasn't. And now I've got a whole host of mental problems dealing with the issue. And," she pointed a finger sternly at the glowing avatar. "If you tell Miranda, Kelly, or – God forbid – the Illusive Man that I said that, I'm going to help Joker melt down your core into thousands of little metal replicas of the Normandy."

"Understood, Commander."

Shepard paused and stared at the floating blue ball. Was that amusement she'd heard? Surely not.

"Item number two: I was revived by a man I don't know, who runs an organization I can't trust, to do a mission I shouldn't survive, for people that won't believe, in a hyper-advanced synthetic species that seeks to wipe out all life as we know it in a galaxy-ending war that won't happen – but is on it's way." She stopped and took a deep breath, releasing it in a gusty sigh. "Right, moving on. All of my old crew is either dead or scattered. The humans that are still alive won't believe me, and let's not forget that one of those humans is my former best friend who feels I betrayed her by not contacting her while I was dead."

"That is illogical. While you were dead you were, by definition, unable to do anything." EDI seemed contemptuous. Huzzah, the AI was on her side.

"Didn't you know? Humans are illogical by our very natures." Shepard felt her lips twist sardonically. Why was it that she had her most meaningful conversations with beings that weren't human? Ever since she'd been revived, she'd had issues connecting with humans on a personal level. The people she could speak with most easily were decidedly un-human. Thane, Garrus, Tali…and now EDI. Her conversations with Kelly were always blissfully short, considering how much that girl saw; and while she'd enjoyed sharing brandy with Dr. Chakwas, she'd used that time with the doctor as an escape from her problems, not a way to work through them.

"I have noticed," replied EDI.

Shepard sat in silence a while, picking at her nails. She tried so hard to grow them out – she had long fingers that would look good with nails – but her career never allowed for beautiful things.

Maintaining her hair was the only true joy she took in her appearance, and she kept it tied back in a tight bun so that it didn't interfere with her work. It was long, reaching her shoulder blades, and a deep red – almost black. She wondered what Thane saw when he looked at it. He'd mentioned that he couldn't tell the difference between the two colors.

Shepard hunched over, burying her face in her hands. The derelict Reaper with the needed IFF was waiting for her to go claim it. She should go get it, but Jack needed to take care of some childhood issues, Samara's wayward daughter needed to be dealt with, and the Quarian Fleet recently accused Tali of treason. She couldn't go for the IFF. Not yet.

What if the Reaper was another ambush? Hopefully not one set up by the Illusive Man – the way that man wielded information and put their lives at risk make her blood boil – but a Reaper engineered trap instead. It was supposedly dead, but how could they be sure until they blew it into itty-bitty pieces?

Shepard continued to sit on the crate, her thoughts running in circles.

ooOO00OOoo

Thane emerged from Life Support and looked around the empty mess hall. It was the middle of the sleep cycle, and the lights had been dimmed. He had already slept, and his day was just beginning.

Padding silently over to the kitchen area, Thane selected a pear from amongst the various fruits set out for general consumption. Both Dr. Chakwas and Mordin insisted that the crew have access to as much fresh fruit as possible and Shepard complied. Thane suspected that a large amount of the Cerberus funds were spent on such things for her crew. Shepard clearly cared for her people.

Thane leaned against the counter and bit into the fruit, savoring the almost sweet taste and firm texture. Gardner had seen him eating a pear once and had scolded him for impatience. Apparently the pear hadn't been ripe yet. Thane didn't care. He liked them this way; they reminded him of _tuka _on Kahje.

The sound of the Main Battery doors opening brought his head up. He hadn't realized that Vakarian was still awake. It was unusual for him to be up this time of night. Drell required less sleep than the average Human, but Turians required more.

The footsteps were different, lighter and smoother than those of the unofficial XO of the ship. Commander Shepard was in the battery, most likely alone. Even when Vakarian wasn't there, Shepard still went into the battery, probably taking solace from where he spent the majority of his time.

Thane felt a twinge of longing. He wished to be the one she turned to. Of all the beings he had met in the world, she was unique. Her elevation above the average fascinated him. _She_ fascinated him. Every time he peeled away a layer, every time he managed to figure out why she did something or to predict her future actions, he was filled with a quiet yearning to know more.

She emerged from the hallway and paused at the top of the steps. Looking around the empty mess, Shepard blinked owlishly when her eyes finally settled on Thane where he leaned against the counter, contentedly munching on the pear. She looked tired, he noted. Her normally stiff military bearing had bent under the weight of circumstance and responsibility.

Thane wished there was something he could do. Some small bit of solace he could offer her.

Blinking again, Shepard came to life a little bit. Her shoulders still drooped and her feet still shuffled, but there was an interest in her face as she approached him, eyes locked on the pear hovering inches from his mouth. For a brief moment, Thane imagined that it was his lips she stared hungrily at. He lowered the pear and her eyes tracked it. Thane pushed away the burst of disappointment he felt; he had no business feeling this way about his Commander. He wasn't sure why he was disappointed, or precisely _what _he was feeling for her, just…interest, curiosity, and perhaps even – yes, the smallest sliver of desire.

There was a picture of a human male on her desk in a place of honor. He knew it wasn't her father because she had a picture of her family on the shelf. Who was this human who had staked a claim on her heart? Who did she long for, and why was he not at her side?

Shepard shuffled closer, her gaze following his other hand as it disappeared behind his back to where the fruit bowl rested. Unerringly selecting an orange, Thane brought it around and offered it silently to her. Her eyes lit up, but her smile was tired. Gratefully accepting the orange, she settled against the counter next to him, digging into the surface of the orange with her thumbnail, and stripped the inedible outer covering from the inner meat. She piled the peelings on the counter between them, a small mountain of discarded skin as she revealed the curiously pre-sliced flesh underneath. He wondered fleetingly if humanity had engineered the fruit that way. She pulled one of the slices away from the rest and bit into it, releasing the sweet scent of the orange into the air. Thane raised his own fruit and took a bite, enjoying the scents of both fruits as they mingled together pleasantly in the air.

The two of them ate together for a time in companionable silence. When Shepard made a small sound, Thane turned to observe her curiously. He saw her eyes close and a bit of juice slide down her chin; she didn't bother to open them again while she freed another slice and popped it into her mouth. She finished her orange in short order and was licking her fingers clean of the remaining juice as Thane collected his core and her peelings, depositing both in the trash. Returning to his bit of the counter, he settled against it with a small smile, which she acknowledged tiredly. If she noticed that he was just a little bit closer that he was before, she didn't say anything.

They arranged themselves comfortably, Thane with his hands laced together on his lap and Shepard with her arms crossed, her back curved with fatigue. Thane listened to the quiet dings and clicks of the ship, the engine a soft hum in the background that reminded Thane of a lullaby Irikah had once sung to Kolyat.

He began to hum it a little, unsure how much of it Shepard would be able to hear. She had already demonstrated that she could feel some of his vibrations in her chest. Perhaps this would soothe her enough that she could sleep. It seemed to work some, as it wasn't long before she sighed deeply and settled herself more fully against the counter, slumping comfortably. He smiled slightly to himself when he saw her blinks becoming longer and slower. She hadn't drifted off, but she was close.

She sighed again softly, turning her head to study his profile. He continued to hum and stare off into the medical bay across from them, giving her what privacy he could. He felt her gaze shift from his face to his jacket and he wondered if she knew just how much of his life was conveyed by it. Verbal cues were important for his people, but two centuries with the Hanar had developed in them a strong reliance on visual cues as well. The cut and fit of his jacket revealed much about him to an observer who knew what to look for. The myriad of pockets and flaps spoke of a job of physical labor with many tools of the trade associated with it. The fine quality of leather conveyed money. The partially unzipped vest beneath meant he was married, while the gaps in his wrist guards meant he was available. Combined, they told the informed observer that he was a widower.

Shepard reached up with one hand and grabbed the handle of the hidden dagger masquerading as a decoration on the point of his shoulder. A quick tug and it slid free of its sheath to settle into her hand. The lullaby died in his throat and he opened his mouth to issue a warning, but closed it again quickly when she scooted just a little closer and laid her head on his shoulder with an exhalation too soft to be called a sigh. The contented rumble that took place of the lullaby a few seconds later contained entirely too much smug satisfaction for his liking, but he couldn't stop purring. He didn't want to.

Nuzzling his shoulder, Shepard settled herself more fully against him, and Thane took the opportunity to thread his fingers between hers and the poisoned blade she held in her hand. The handle was bulkier than he preferred, but it cloaked itself well as a decoration. He rolled it about in his fingers, twisting the blade away from Shepard's vulnerable skin. There were few substances in the galaxy that were poisonous to more than two species, but there were some. Thane had coated this knife with one of them.

Her breathing deepened and her eyes fluttered closed, contentment radiating from every tired line of her body. With the poisoned blade pressed safely against his leather-clad thigh, Thane gently ran his thumb over her fingers, tracing their lines where they curled around the backs of his own. Her hands were soft against his, the skin smooth and un-textured. Her fingers twitched slightly, capturing his thumb in a light grip as she caressed him back.

They stayed that way for a long time, hands intertwined, while the ship slept around them.


	13. Chapter 13

Shepard eventually pulled herself from the funk she'd allowed herself to sink into and stood wearily to her feet. She was exhausted in more ways than one. She really should go back to her cabin and try to sleep.

Padding down the hallway towards the mess, Shepard knew that if anyone caught her now, rumors that she'd been beaten by life would spread around the ship. She knew how she looked: usually tight bun sloppy, strands of hair escaping, slouched posture, weak stride, hands limp at her sides, weary expression. She looked broken.

She almost was.

Normally very good at bearing up under pressure, even Shepard sometimes cracked and needed a shoulder to lean on until she could stand on her own again. That was why she'd been so depressed when she realized Garrus wasn't there after the main battery doors swooshed open. She'd needed him very badly in that moment.

Glancing around, Shepard was glad to see that the mess was empty. She must have been in the battery longer than she'd thought, wallowing in self-pity and self-doubt. Her stomach grumbled a reminder that with all her internal drama, she'd missed dinner. A soft crunch drew her eyes to the right.

Thane Krios, the Galaxy's Greatest Assassin, was leaning against the counter in the kitchen eating a pear. It was rather surreal. She blinked. He was still there. Odd.

Without consciously deciding to do so, she descended the steps and approached him, her eyes zeroing in on the pear when he fitted those lips of his around it and bit down. He lowered the pear and her eyes followed it, studying the grooves his teeth had made in the pale flesh.

If only she was that pear. She'd often found herself wondering what it would feel like to have his lips and teeth and hands on her. The pear knew, she thought muzzily.

Seeing movement, she switched her gaze to his other hand just as he put it behind his back. She smiled gratefully at him when he brought out an orange and offered it to her. Of course he would think she was hungry; she'd been staring at his food.

How did he know it was her favorite, she wondered as she pried the peel off with a thumbnail. She tried to stay away from the glorious little things; they tended to be highly addictive. Maybe that's how he knew. He was an assassin; he studied people. He had probably seen her drawn in by their allure enough times. Setting the peelings on the counter next to her, Shepard freed the first slice, slipping it into her mouth. She bit down, savoring the flavor of the sweet juice as it ran down her throat. Oh yes, she had a weakness for these.

When they were both finished, Thane collected their leavings, depositing them in the trash quietly before returning to lean against the counter again. He was a tidy man – and so _quiet_! Even throwing scraps away, he was silent. She wondered vaguely if he would be silent in bed as well.

A soft sound began to fill the room, a tune or song that she could barely hear. He was humming.

Staring up at him, Shepard recalled all the other times she'd been around him and felt like there was something that she couldn't quite hear. It had been him.

Shepard knew that Drell could produce sounds outside the human register; she'd just been too preoccupied to make the connection before. Why was it that she only figured these things out when she was bone tired? God, she was an idiot.

She began to study his features, noting the straight, unbroken line of his nose and the much-thought-of lips. She'd not noticed before – too caught up in their perfect shape – they weren't just green, but also held a hint of a blush at their center. She thought it had been put there to draw her in. Looking closer at his neck ridges she realized that, like his lips, they were scale-less. They looked almost leathery. She wanted to know what they felt like.

Letting her eyes drift lower, Shepard studied what parts of his jacket she could see easily. She'd originally thought that the holes in the collar were for buttons, but she could see now that there weren't any. What was the point then? A fashion statement?

He had strong shoulders, she noted, nice and broad with a good padding of muscle. He was probably _very_ strong, she realized suddenly. Drell bone and muscle were denser than human, meaning they could do more with less. Given the amount he had on his frame, he could probably do a lot – carry a lot. He could probably hold more weight on his shoulders. Would Miranda object if Shepard stepped down as Galactic Savior and gave the job to Thane on account of his musculature? Probably. Though perhaps Thane wouldn't.

She knew enough about him now to be aware of just what type of life he'd lived, and even some of the struggles he'd faced. She wanted to know more about the man he had become. Joker was right. Thane _was _the strong, silent type. She didn't know any other man that could put up with a woman staring at them for this long and not say anything.

His humming was very relaxing; the vibrations of his song running through her like a massage. Her exhaustion hit her in one great wave. She felt like she could just lay her head down and sleep right there.

His shoulder looked very comfortable, and it was just the right height for her to put her head, if only there wasn't a spike in the way. She should be grateful for the spike. Resting her head on his shoulder was a rather intimate gesture, one that would reveal more weakness than she was already showing. She should just be thankful that he hadn't seemed bothered by her exhaustion. No one else would have been so calm seeing her so defeated; even Ashley wigged when Shepard had that breakdown in the mess after Virmire.

Thane just kept his silence, offered her an orange, and then hummed. It was rather…sweet, actually. She knew there weren't any words that would fix her problems, no magical formula that would make her feel better. It was nice that someone else saw that as well. He didn't try to pull her out of her funk or prop her up with false platitudes. He was just there – and that was enough.

Having his silent support just made her want to lean on him all the more, though. She shouldn't. She really shouldn't.

She also really wanted to.

She struggled briefly with herself, only stopping when she realized that, desires or no, she _couldn't_ rest her head on his shoulder. It was spiked. She glared at the offending protrusion with as much energy as she could muster – which amounted to her blinking sleepily at it.

At some point, it dawned on her that the 'spike' had little textured bits, as if it was meant to be gripped. A closer look revealed that the spike was really the handle of a knife, cleverly disguised as a decoration. Reaching out, she wrapped her fingers around the handle, removing it from the sheath. There, now she could; she sighed contentedly as she rested against him. Some small part of her brain started shrieking that this was unprofessional and crossed so many lines. She told it to shut up.

Then he stopped humming, and she wondered if maybe she _had_ crossed too many lines. He fascinated her since he arrived, and she devoted far more time to talking to him than she should have. He always seemed willing – eager, even – to speak to her, but what if she was projecting her desires upon his actions? What if all that Hanar politeness had rubbed off on him and he was only being nice? Shepard was just gathering her energy to pull away when he began to hum again.

No, he wasn't humming. There was no tone or pattern to the sound that rolled through the room. He was _purring_. Relieved, she rested against him more firmly, going so far as to tilt her shoulders towards him slightly so he could take more of her weight. She was right, his shoulder was really comfortable. The scent of his leather was rather pleasant as well. She didn't know what animal it was made of, but it was butter soft under her cheek.

A dry, scaly hand slipped into hers and she smiled. She felt him rotating the knife away from her fingers, the tendons moving smoothly under his scales. Even just touching his hand, she could feel the strength contained within him. He ran his thumb over her fingers, and she responded in kind, flexing her hand softly over the back of his and tracing the outline of his thumbnail.

She didn't know what this meant for their relationship – not that her almost passing out on his shoulder meant they were suddenly lovers – and most days it felt like she was still haunted by Kaidan's ghost. But it didn't matter. Thane was with her right now and for now, that was enough.

ooOO00OOoo

Thane roused Shepard from where she'd spent the last hour drowsing on his shoulder and walked her to the elevator.

"Commander," he said, trying to get her attention as they waited for the doors to open. "Commander."

She merely grunted and rubbed her cheek against him, clearly unaware of what she was doing.

His laughter was soft but deep as he wrapped an arm around her waist. "Shepard."

"Hm? What?" she roused slightly.

"It is time for you to go to bed."

"Mm, yeah. You're right." She shifted to stand on her own and he dropped his arm. She gave him a soft, sleepy smile. "Thanks."

Thane eyed her critically, trying to gauge the likelihood of her being able to make it to her bed under her own power. He needn't have worried. As he watched, she became more alert, her body language regaining some of the confidence and poise it usually contained.

The elevator doors opened and she stepped through on her own power, offering him a slight wave as she selected her loft, too tired to vocalize a proper good bye.

The doors closed, cutting off his view of her. "Goodnight, Shepard," he called quietly.

Thane returned to life support and settled into his chair. "EDI?"

"Yes, Sere Krios?" she replied promptly.

"Would you please watch out for Commander Shepard? She is rather exhausted."

"Of course, Thane," the AI responded before folding up into the wall.

Thane folded his hands and bowed his head, offering up a prayer to Arashu for Shepard.

ooOO00OOoo

Four hours later, Shepard sat bolt upright in her bed, a mortified expression on her face. "Oh, shit," she said to the empty room. She looked around for a few frantic moments, taking stock. She was fully dressed, shoes and all, sprawled out on top of her comforter.

Sleep muddled memories began to float through her mind. Drinking with Dr. Chakwas, talking to EDI, and emerging from the battery to find Thane Krios leaning casually against the kitchen island. Shepard's face flushed a deep red as she remembered what happened next. What had she been thinking, lusting after him like a randy teenager? Didn't she have more important things to do? Like save the galaxy?

Shepard rolled off her bed and headed for the shower, stripping off an article of clothing with every step. She would just have to get a hold of herself, she thought as she turned the water on. She had allowed herself to get attached to Kaidan, and look how _that_ turned out.

She planned her day as she washed the night's accumulation of grime off. First, she would go visit Thane and apologize for her behavior. Hopefully he hadn't been too put off by her horribly unprofessional attitude. Then, she'd check on the rest of her crew find something to eat; it was still early enough to grab whatever Gardner had set aside from breakfast for the stragglers. After that came Kelly and her endless messages. Did she have enough fuel to get them to Omega? Dealing with Samara's daughter was at the top of her list of missions to complete. Just the limited information she'd been given about ardat-yakshi was enough to light a fire under her ass. A person like that did _not_ need to be left roaming around free.

Shepard turned the water off and grabbed a towel, dressing in minutes. She hesitated before the elevator, steeling herself for an awkward conversation. Firming her jaw, Shepard passed her hand before the door's sensor and entered the elevator. She could do this.

ooOO00OOoo

Thane's door chimed, a new feature since Shepard had decided to start requesting his permission to enter life support. A gesture he appreciated.

He raised his head and voice, "Come."

Commander Shepard stepped through the doors and Thane tracked her movements in the glass before him. She had clearly rested since last he'd seen her. Four hours was not considered enough for the average human. Shepard was anything but average.

"Commander," Thane said by way of greeting. "How can I help you?"

Shepard flared both of her elbows outwards, drawing her hands up her sides to facilitate the gesture. Her head tilted slightly to the right, her chin lifted defiantly, even as the eyes that slanted his way were filled with chagrin. At least he could read her facial expressions.

"I just wanted to apologize for last night." Shepard said a little stiffly.

Thane turned to look at her directly, cocking his head in an unconscious mimicry of her. "Whatever for?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.

She paused, blinking at him. "The…leaning…thing," she got out eventually.

Thane rose to his feet and faced her completely, folding his hands behind his back. "There is no need to apologize, Shepard."

She sighed softly and lowered her arms, her head bowing slightly. "Nevertheless, I'm sorry. My behavior was inexcusable. Thank you for your tolerance."

She turned to go, but Thane could not allow her to leave thinking she had done something shameful.

"Commander," he said, taking two quick steps forward.

She paused, but did not turn around.

"…Shepard," Thane said again when it became obvious she would not face him. "You need not have tendered an apology. I do not see how you have acted inappropriately." He took another few steps forward and touched her softly on the sleeve. She turned reluctantly at the sensation.

"If I may," he said quietly, and she tilted her head slightly towards him in acknowledgement. "We've just left the Citadel, not even hit the relay yet. You granted your crew shore leave, but I am certain that you were still working. It is likely that you visited the Council, and that they did not listen to you now any more now than they did two years ago. Having proven yourself once, I can understand how hearing their disbelief would wound you. There is no shame in feeling fear or depression, so long as those things do not rule you. I can only hope that I was of some small comfort to you. That you gave me the chance to do so is an honor."

Shepard's expression had been severe when she first turned around, but it softened as he spoke. When he finished, she stepped just a little closer and raised her left hand, tracing the handle of the dagger on his shoulder.

"You did help," she said, her voice barely over a whisper. "Thank you."

Her eyes flicked to his briefly, stealing his breath away, then she turned swiftly and left.

Thane returned to his seat, slightly unsteady on his feet. Her _eyes_. What was that he saw in them this time?

ooOO00OOoo

() ()

(^.^)

(h h)o

Because everyone needs a bunny in their life at times.

Many thanks to Braxy29 and BlackAquoKat for betaing for me, they make my work much better. Hope you all enjoyed this other perspective!


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Thane offered up a prayer of thanks for his memory and training as he followed Shepard and Vakarian through the tunnels of a Prothean ruin. They were on their way, in a roundabout manner, to Omega. But they needed fuel to get there and were running low on cash, so Shepard was scanning every planet they passed, hoping to find resources they could trade for fuel. One such scan had revealed the presence of a distress beacon set up by the scientists who had dug up this ruin. A pack of Blue Suns mercenaries had found them and their recently unearthed treasure, and were in the process of raiding them. Unable to ignore a distress call, Shepard had loaded up the shuttle, intent on helping the besieged scientists, bringing Thane and Vakarian with her.

As they progressed deeper into the ruin, Thane found himself becoming more and more distracted by Shepard. Only his superior training and reflexes kept his two squad mates from noticing. Her body language was changing. Never before had her deviant body language intruded in to her combat, but it was different this time. Usually a paragon of control, Shepard's hand signals exhibited extraneous movements that weren't typically there. She kept her hands bent oddly at the wrists when she wasn't actively shooting, and her fingers flexed in time to an unheard rhythm.

It was all terribly distracting.

He wanted to follow her from the shadows, to observe her body language and divine its source or for time to sit and be quiet while he dug through his memories and discovered a pattern. Instead, Thane gazed beyond the person who was fast becoming a source of obsession for him, and lifted his rifle to his eye. Exhaling slowly, he pulled the trigger, and an opposing sniper fell from his perch.

"Good shot!" Garrus cheered from across the room.

The mercenaries became more desperate as they approached the back of the compound, throwing themselves at Shepard's squad with suicidal abandon. It was obvious now that they had killed all of the scientists; if they could get rid of Shepard and her squad, then the treasure would be theirs. They were guarding a back room whose only access was a slim doorway that acted as a natural choke point. The space immediately before the choke point was distressingly clear of debris or cargo crates, leaving a wide-open area the squad would be foolish to attempt to traverse with so many guns trained on them.

Instinctively, Thane looked up, seeking a secondary way in to the merc's back room. The Prothean ruin was remarkably well preserved given its age. But large cracks and gaping holes were more common than intact walls. Noting several alternate entrances, usable only by someone with his climbing skills, Thane activated his comm.

"Shepard?" he called over the din of gunfire.

"Thane?" she responded immediately. "Is something wrong?"

"No, Commander. I see several alternate routes I could use to flank the mercenaries," he told her, trying to decide which path would offer the Blue Suns the least opportunity to shoot at him.

"Sound's good. What do you need from us?" Off to his left, Thane saw Shepard lean out from cover and nail a merc in the head with a shot from her pistol. The shield in front of the mercenary's face rippled as he yelped and dove back into cover.

"Just keep them distracted. I'm going up the wall to the right." Thane instructed as he folded his rifle away.

"Got it." Shepard hurled one of her bursts of fire towards the narrow doorway the tumbled merc had disappeared beyond. It arched expertly around the corner, splashing against the merc shields. Even from this distance, Thane could hear the man's yelp of surprised pain as the fire burned through is defenses and scorched his skin. Shepard smiled darkly.

Garrus swapped his sniper rifle for his assault rifle, preparing to provide distraction, "Roger."

The sporadic gunfire from Thane's teammates picked up, forcing the mercenaries to stay hidden as Thane slipped away from the immediate area and approached the far right wall. The scientists had brought in massive floodlights to banish the gloom to dark holes, but through the course of the firefight, most of them had been shot out, save for a few tucked away in inconspicuous corners. This resulted in more dark spots than light, the angles of the remaining floodlights casting odd patterns on the walls and floor that he planned on taking full advantage of, the patterning useful in breaking up his obviously bipedal silhouette.

He studied the wall again, analyzing his chosen path carefully. Now that he was closer, he could more easily tell which cracks would likely hold his weight and which would crumble. There were several protrusions that looked like they had been used to hang banners, and even one large section that appeared to be the remnants of a balcony. Given the size of the space, this area was likely for entertainment, long ago. But time and disuse had worn them down, and they all looked terribly brittle. He would have to move quickly, never stopping, or his support could vanish beneath him.

His course set, Thane took two steps backwards and crouched slightly, readying himself. He breathed quickly and deeply, purposefully over-oxygenating his blood. With Kepral's a persistent shadow over everything he did, Thane had to plan ahead when doing anything physically demanding. Just as he was getting light-headed, Thane exploded into action.

He ran, pushing off with his back foot and reaching out with both hands to the crevice eight feet up the wall. He continued running up the wall, giving himself the last bit of momentum necessary to reach his first hold point. He'd barely settled his feet when he was on the move again, pushing sideways off the wall to grab one of the flagpoles. The modern lamp hung off its tip swung in time with his movements, casting crazy shadows on the wall as he pumped his feet back and forth. Thane drove his hips forward on the upswing, curling his body with powerful muscles to land on the railing of a crumbling balcony, flashing forward to grab another ancient flagpole. He pulled himself atop this one, and had barely managed to clear it when he heard it snap at the base, falling to the ground below.

His heart was pounding now, his breathing labored. He'd used up the extra oxygen he'd pumped into his bloodstream and would have to rely on whatever his weakened lungs could supply. Thane shimmied his way left along the crack he'd managed to grab and made his way over to a broken section of the wall the mercs were hiding behind. Transferring his grip left along the corner separating the wall he was clinging to and the hole he was aiming for, Thane hauled himself through the breach with relief. With his lungs in this condition, he couldn't do nearly what he used to.

Thane pulled out his pistol. Generally, he preferred a submachine gun when he couldn't use his sniper rifle, but he needed to take them down quickly. The SMG just wasn't accurate enough; he was too exposed sitting up here on the ledge to waste time. There were ten shots in a full clip, and ten mercenaries hidden in this back room. He would need to be fast and accurate.

Thane took a moment to study the room. Four mercenaries flanked the door, taking turns trading off standing next to the opening. Two would lean out and fire at Shepard and Garrus, while the other two would hang back, allowing their shields to regenerate. Then, they would switch, the first two moving away and allowing the others to step forward with their defenses fresh and strong. Beyond them, two snipers crouched behind a large pile of rubble, their heads barely visible from Thane's vantage point. The remaining four were spread out deeper into the room, doing various tasks. One appeared to be attempting to fix his rifle; another seemed to be counting heat sinks. The third was slathering medi-gel generously on a nasty thigh wound, and the final one was peering suspiciously into the deep gloom of a black doorway situated at the very back of the room.

Thane took aim at the man by the black doorway. If he was to fall first, the others likely wouldn't notice immediately, and caution would lead them to look for his killer inside of the darkness when they did. Thane fired and switched targets before the corpse had hit the floor, taking aim at the man counting heat sinks. He, too, was gone and Thane was just squeezing the trigger with his pistol aimed at the man with the medi-gel when the merc fixing his rifle sent up the call about an assassin. True to Thane's expectations, the man with the rifle picked up a discarded SMG and approached the dark opening in the back, one of the snipers turning to cover his approach. When Thane killed the man with the SMG, the sniper followed the bullet's trajectory up to where Thane was perched like a bird on a windowsill. The sniper leaned out of cover to aim at Thane, and he took advantage of the moment every sniper had to take in order to get an accurate shot, nailing the mercenary in the head with his easier-to-aim pistol first. The sniper fell just as the rapport of Garrus's rifle sang out and a man at the doorway went sprawling.

"Scratch one!" Thane heard Garrus cheer.

Four left.

By now, the last sniper had pinpointed his position, and was leaning cautiously out of cover to aim at Thane. He steadied his pistol and shot once more, clipping the sniper in the shoulder, causing the sniper to jerk and sending the returning rifle shot wide so that it ripped into the shields above Thane's shoulder instead of through his head. Refocusing his pistol while the sniper was still trying to bring the long barrel of his rifle to bear again, Thane fired another two shots in quick succession, finally managing to kill the final sniper with the second. That had been his last bullet. Immediately, the remaining three turned their fire on him, and Thane heard the warning whine of his shields as the barrage of bullets quickly overwhelmed them.

"Now, Shepard!" He called urgently, as he quickly cleared the spent heatsink. He was trapped on the ledge, unable to retreat. The three by the entrance were in a position to shoot at him, but he could not return the favor.

Garrus roared a challenge for the remaining mercs to turn and face him. While they shifted their attention and their weapons, Thane dropped silently into the room, removing the danger of remaining silhouetted against the opening. Garrus charged into the room, bowling over the first man and breaking his neck with a powerful kick while simultaneously unloading his SMG into the face of the second. The loud rumble of Shepard's sniper rifle heralded the death of the final mercenary, and silence quickly descended as she stepped into the room, her rifle at the ready.

"Thane?" Shepard called sharply, her eyes hard.

"Here," Thane responded, moving out of the shadows.

She huffed and pointed her gun away from him. "Nicely done. That all of them?"

"No enemy contacts," he confirmed.

"Good." She folded her rifle away and Garrus did the same. "Let's see what was so important."

The black hallway led to the final room of the dig: a windowless space half the size of the room the mercenaries had been holed up in, and dominated by a Prothean pyramid only partially freed from the dirt surrounding it. Shepard approached the console set up in front of it and pushed a few buttons. The top two feet of the pyramid was made of some glass-like substance that suddenly lit up, quickly concentrating into a beam that shot through Shepard. She grunted and staggered back into Garrus, who grabbed her by the shoulders to keep her upright. Almost as soon as the light appeared, it vanished, plunging the room into darkness.

"Shepard?" Garrus asked cautiously while Thane rumbled his concern.

She shook her head once, then pulled free of Garrus' grasp. "I'm okay," she said brusquely.

Thane and Garrus shared a glance.

"Shep-" Garrus began again.

She waved her hand at Garrus imperiously, cutting him off. "Just the vision, Garrus. Nothing new."

The Turian relaxed, but Thane remained uneasy. He watched her as they made their way back through the ruins, her eyes roaming the walls with something he could only call nostalgia. Garrus fell back to speak privately with Thane, as he had on Ilium.

"Stop worrying," he told the Drell, "she's fine."

"The light…" Thane objected.

Garrus shook his head sharply, a gesture he must have picked up from humans. "It's not the first time this has happened. It's the third. First was on Eden Prime. The beacon there gave her a vision of the Reapers destroying the Protheans. It's how she knew about them to begin with."

"Amazing," Thane said. Shepard had contact with working Prothean technology. "And the second?"

"Oh, Virmire. Different beacon, same vision. Also talked to Sovereign. _That_ is an experience I could have done without."

"You spoke…to a Reaper?" Thane trilled a high sound, layering astonishment into the tone.

"Yeah, second most disturbing moment of my life." Garrus confirmed.

"I hesitate to ask."

Garrus grimaced. "The Thorian. But," he gestured at the shuttle that was just becoming visible at the end of the tunnel, "that's a story for another time."

"Agreed."

ooOO00OOoo

Garrus grumbled to himself, cursing as the algorithms refused to work out properly. He took a step back and closed his eyes, forcing his hands and mind away from the problem. A few minutes later, he reopened them, striving to see the equations from a different perspective. When no solution was forthcoming, he cursed again and stepped to the left of the console. Maybe it was a hardware issue.

Garrus bypassed the metal bar that acted as a safety barrier. "Joker," he called to the empty air as he walked alongside the giant Thanix cannon he'd installed.

"Hey, what's up, Buddy?" Joker's voice came over the intercom.

Garrus' mandibles twitched in amusement. The first time he heard a human say that, he simply answered the question. He had no understanding as to _why_ a human would care what was over his head, and simply chalked it up as one of those strange human mannerisms. They all had a good laugh about it afterwards.

"I'm going to work on the cannon's hardware for a while. Try not to get into any firefights while I do." Garrus told the pilot.

"No dogfights? You're such a killjoy, man."

Garrus simply snorted and dug his talons into the sides of an access panel, freeing it from the surrounding metal. "I'll let you know when I'm done," he said and promptly turned the brittle-boned human out. Joker would draw him into a discussion about _something_ meaningless if given half the chance.

Half an hour's work revealed the problem. One of the wires connecting the control panel to the gun had become corroded, weakening the connection to the point that 'white fog' crept into the calculations as the computer strove to understand the garbled signals coming over the wire. Garrus retrieved the necessary cleaning supplies from the crate wedged in the corner of the battery and settled himself on the floor by the access panel. Taking up a cleaning solution, Garrus spread it on a rag and reached into the hole. He leaned forward, searching for the wire, only to be stopped short as his cowl encountered the lips of the hole. He frowned and shifted a bit, trying again only to have the same result.

Garrus sat back and glared at the hole. "Damn Cerberus engineers," he growled. This time, he leaned his head into the hole instead of leading with his shoulder. That was actually worse, shortening his reach as well as blocking his light. A snarl of frustration tore free of his throat.

"May I be of assistance?"

Garrus withdrew his head so quickly that the ends of his fringe caught on the lip of the metal, bending the ends back painfully. He yelped and cursed, bringing one hand back to feel for damage. He looked to the right to find the resident assassin standing nearby with a slightly sheepish expression on his face. Odd. Garrus hadn't heard the doors to the battery open.

"My apologies," the Drell said with a small bow. "It was not my intention to startle you."

Relieved that there didn't seem to be any damage, Garrus waved away Thane's words. "No harm done. What did you need?"

"Actually, I was offering to help."

Garrus looked at Thane with an appraising eye. "Yeah, you'll probably fit. Here." He moved off to the side, handing the rag to the assassin.

Thane approached and took the proffered rag, bending down to peer into the hole with Garrus. "I see," he said after a moment's study. "The wire?"

"Yeah. Sending corrupted data to the console. Probably why I can't get the calibrations right." Garrus confirmed.

Thane leaned into the access but almost immediately backed out and set the rag on a nearby console. His hands went to the buckles over his chest and he swiftly divested himself of his jacket, leaving the vest underneath it in place. Thane rose and laid his jacket over the metal safety barrier. Snagging the rag on his way back, Thane settled upon the floor again, sliding his whole upper body easily into the hole.

"This is quite corroded," Garrus heard him say after a while.

"The connections to the new Thanix canon didn't get installed properly. It's missing the insulation." Garrus turned around, leaning against the paneling while Thane worked. Taking up a long piece of tubing and some shears, he began to trim it down to match the wire Thane was cleaning.

They labored individually for a while before Garrus broke the silence. "So, what do you think of our Commander Shepard?" This was a question he knew the answer to, given all the sub-vocal hums and purrs he had heard the Drell making in the Commander's presence. But Shepard seemed to be returning Thane's interest. As her informal brother, it was Garrus' duty to screen her potential love interests, and this was a duty he was very keen to fulfill.

"She is…unique," came the Drell's cautious answer.

Garrus rumbled a laugh, knowing the Drell would be able to hear it. "That she is."

"She has strange mannerisms for a human." Thane observed.

Was Garrus wrong? He had thought that Thane was interested in Shepard "Mmm…that's the Cypher."

Thane paused in his work, pulling back to look at Garrus. "Cypher?"

"Yeah. Got it from the Thorian. Helped us track down Saren." Garrus turned the tube around and began trimming the other end.

"Ah. Your most disturbing moment?"

Garrus shuddered faintly at the memory. "Big, ugly, sentient, plant-thing on Feros. It used spores to control the human colonists. It had been alive since the Protheans and knew all about them. Saren used one of Benezia's indoctrinated handmaidens to pull the information out of the Thorian's mind. After we killed the Thorian and freed its thralls, the handmaiden gave the info to Shepard." Finished with the insulation, Garrus looked over to see Thane pull out of the access hole. He was silent for a moment while Thane took the insulation and installed it on the wire.

While Thane replaced the paneling, Garrus continued his story. "The Cypher was just the cultural knowledge of the Protheans, but it was what Shepard needed to make sense of the visions that beacon on Eden Prime gave her. "

"I see," Thane said, standing and wiping his hands on a towel. "She is multicultural." He held his hand out to Garrus, who grinned and accepted it, allowing the Drell to help him to his feet.

Garrus led the way back to the control panel and turned it on. "Shepard is half-human and half-prothean now. I call her Bug. Don't say that to her face, though. She gets pissy."

Thane rumbled a laugh, "I imagine so." He cut a glance at Garrus as he shrugged back into his jacket. "The origami is Prothean in nature, I assume?"

Garrus tilted his head side to side as he considered. "Yes and no. I'm sure you've seen the models in her room?" He looked at Thane and continued when the Drell nodded. "She likes to do things with her hands. She did origami while we were chasing Saren. Now all her creations are Prothean creatures."

"Fascinating."

Garrus's gaze sharpened at Thane's tone of voice. "Don't fall in love with her," he warned.

"Indeed?" Thane looked at Garrus, his face filled with light humor. "Why not?"

Garrus shifted on his feet, unsure of what to say. Revealing private things about Shepard's past was not something he would do. The story of the Thorian was one that Shepard had relished sharing with the support staff of the original Normandy after they had finished on Feros, Garrus saw no reason to keep the knowledge of the mission from Thane. But Shepard's old lovers and her history with them – no. Those stories were not his to tell. "Just….don't," he said lamely.

Garrus shifted restlessly as the silence between them lengthened, Thane studying him in complete stillness.

"I see," Thane said eventually, his voice filled with soft understanding. "I did not realize that you –"

"What? No!" Garrus raised his hands defensively and took a step backwards.

The last few minutes of the conversation hung awkwardly in the air, vibrating like a sourly plucked string.

"I see," Thane said again, though clearly he did not. "Thank you for the discussion, it was very informative." He bowed slightly to Garrus and slipped out of the room, leaving the still tongue-tied Turian behind him.

"Shit," Garrus said when the doors closed behind Thane and he lowered his arms. "I'm going to have to tell Shepard about this.

ooOO00OOoo

Author's Note: Garrus's nickname for Shepard comes from the lovely Roarkshop's story 'Sense and Flexibility'. If there is even a tiny part of you that can read a femShep/Garrus then you simply _must_ go check it out. It is absolutely sublime. No, I'm not just randomly hawking her story, I really do think it's that good.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Pre-story Author's Note: This has been beta'ed by BlackAquoKat and MindTwinMari. Thanks for all your help, dears!

ooOO00OOoo

With the mystery behind Shepard's unusual body language settled, Thane had expected to be able to drop back into the lethargy that had characterized his actions for the past two years. But Shepard denied him his battle sleep. She visited him; asking him questions about his philosophy and religion. That she cared at all intrigued him. In his experience, soldiers were more interested in how fast they could take an enemy down at fifty yards than they were about some of the deeper, more obscure questions philosophy presented.

Slowly, she drew him out of his coma with late night discussions about his life. She asked for stories of the places he had been. He requested tales of her youth on starships. She laughed when he told her of the time he'd gotten too confident of his climbing skills and killed his mark by falling on him. He reveled in her descriptions of the Hourglass Nebula as seen from her bunk as a child. Only one thing marred his slow return to life.

The package to Kolyat.

The Normandy was a state-of-the-art vessel, able to come and go at a speed a passenger vessel could never hope to achieve. Even so, Kolyat would be getting it very soon.

Thane's omni-tool pinged and he got up off his cot to check it. Picking up the slim clear filament, he slipped it around his wrist and bent it in a reflexive gesture, bringing up the holographic interface. It was a message from Kolyat's Aunt.

Oh.

The package had arrived. And Kolyat… Thane released an involuntary, high keen of distress. Kolyat left Kahje without word to his family. He vanished into the expansive galaxy, taking nothing but a little money and the items from the package. She was asking, _begging_ him to step in and find Kolyat. He needed no such encouragement.

_His son was missing._

Thane quickly crafted a message to the few assassins he was on friendly terms with that would be willing to help and asked them for any news of Kolyat. Then he wrote Barla Von and told him that if he heard anything about Kolyat, it would be best to tell Thane, because any harm that befell his son would be visited upon the Volus in retribution.

Pleading requests and threatening notices delivered, Thane sat back down in his cot and slumped over, his head cradled in his hands. Once again, all he could do was wait for news.

ooOO00OOoo

Thane lowered his omni-tool, his breath tight in his lungs. Leilah had just contacted him. Kolyat was on the Citadel, asking about wet work. It was Thane's worst nightmare made reality. Kolyat was voluntarily walking in his footsteps, _with no training whatsoever_.

Thane's door pinged, and he turned instinctively at the sound, his mind absorbed by the fate of his son. "Yes?"

Shepard entered the door, stopping almost immediately as she crossed his threshold, taking in his appearance. Thane was certain that he looked no different than he usually did, but she seemed to sense his disquiet nonetheless.

"Is everything alright?" She asked him, concern evident in her tone.

Thane considered lying. Telling her that everything was fine and relying on the differences in cultures to carry him through the resulting conversation as he decided what to do. But she deserved better than that, and…he didn't want to do this alone.

"I...no." He said finally, unable to force himself to put words to the reality of what his foolish package had wrought.

Shepard stepped more fully into the room, moving around the far side of the table to take the chair opposite him. "Talk to me," she said softly, her tone of voice making what could have been an order into a request.

Thane took a deep breath and rubbed his middle fingers together, trying to focus his chaotic mind. He wished for time to meditate, to clear his thoughts of clutter so that he might present to her a coherent timeline. But she was here now, and it would be wrong to send her away. "I have spoken to you of my wife – Irikah. But I have not mentioned my son."

She blinked, the only sign of surprise she allowed herself. "Son?"

"Yes. Irikah was the reason I left the service of the Hanar and the Compact. I had been working for them for almost ten years at that time and served them well. I was given leave to start a family of my own – thus Kolyat was born." Such a beautiful time in his life. Kolyat had been born after a relatively easy labor by Irikah, his scales a pale blue through the yellow birth fluids. Irikah, tired and drooping with the effort of giving birth, had smiled so sweetly at him, her sunset eyes never straying far from where Thane stood at her side, Kolyat cuddled against his chest.

Thane restrained himself, refusing to slip farther into recollection. This was not what Shepard needed to know. He willed the memories away. "When Irikah died, I…attended to the issue." Thane knew that he sounded cold, dismissive even. But he was not as stoic as he led others to believe. He could not speak of Irikah and what happened to her calmly – ration was beyond him where she was concerned. Even after ten years, the memories still burned hot within him, and always would. To let even a part of that passion slip would be to allow it all to come pouring forth. "After, I called upon one of my old friends and together the two of us went after the ones who killed my wife. We started with those who had inflicted the wounds upon her body. Then we moved to the ones who provided transport on the surface, and the ones who flew the ship they had arrived on. Then it was the ringleaders, and then finally the ones who decided to target my family instead of me. " So many deaths on his hands. "I was taught to bring death quickly to those who fell by my hand. But them…I let them linger." Thane hummed his sorrow at his actions. He had offered many prayers asking for forgiveness and still felt he had still more to offer.

"You chased them all across the galaxy, didn't you?" There was a note, a tone in Shepard's voice that he couldn't decipher. He could not tell if she approved of his actions, or if she felt them abhorrent.

"Being a professional freelance assassin pays well. As I was viewed as the best, I was paid more than most. Money was no issue. I paid the Shadow Broker well for the information on who had performed the hit, and together the Shadow Thief and I did as you say. We followed them wherever they ran, none escaped." Thane leaned forward in his chair, folding his hands on the table to keep them still.

"The old friend?" Shepard asked.

"My oldest. She was there when I made my first kill at twelve." And she was reason he had been in the Dantius Towers to begin with. Leilah had been involved in all the important things in his life. He was blessed that the Gods had seen fit to put her in his life.

Shepard's face twisted at the reminder of Thane's childhood, but made no comment. They'd had this conversation already. She did not approve, but he was content with the childhood he had been granted.

"I gave Kolyat into the care of Irikah's sister when I left Kahje to seek my revenge. It was…" So difficult to admit this, "ten years before I completed my mission."

Shepard stared at him in silence for a long moment, and Thane was overcome with the sensation that he was being judged. Not as one mortal by another, but as a mortal by one of the divine. Shepard was such an overwhelming force for good, for change. She helped those around her become more, do more, than they would have been able to do on their own. She inspired them to reach beyond the conventional and into a mystical. This was a woman touched by the Gods. This was another siha.

The revelation floored Thane, and he could only be grateful that he was already sitting because he did not feel his feet would support him otherwise. He turned his eyes away from hers, unable to bear their weight. Another siha. How was it that _he_ was blessed with meeting two in his lifetime?

"You never went back in all that time." A statement, not a question. Yes, this siha knew him well, her instincts guided by more than mortal perception.

"I never did. Not until my thirst for vengeance was sated. Ten years…Kolyat was so different then. Happier. More so than he had ever been when he was still living with Irikah and I. My absences from the family pained him greatly."

"Absences." That tone was back, the one Thane could not identify.

Thane lifted his head some, peering at her, trying to divine her meaning. But her expression was tightly closed off. "I left the Compact to start a family, but I had no other skills beyond the ability to take life. Irikah and I argued often about my work, but she still made my excuses when I left. 'Away on business' she would tell people." How many times had he left her, standing in the doorway staring after him as he walked away? "I was always away on business." A deep sorrow permeated Thane's being. He had left Irikah and Kolyat behind so often. And they had both paid the price of his inattention. His hands tightened over each other where they lay on the table, the only outward sign Thane gave of his inner turmoil.

Shepard startled him then. She reached out with one hand and laid it over the top of his in a gesture of sympathy he was not fit to receive, but was nonetheless incapable of refusing. "What happened?" Now her tone was filled with a soft concern, and Thane was moved by the care this woman would offer to him.

"I had accepted a contract to kill the leader of a batarian slaver gang. The remaining lieutenants wished for revenge and paid the Shadow Broker for information on me. I have always tried to be discrete, but there are still those who can tie the name Ghost to Thane Krios. Unwilling to challenge me, they went after Irikah and Kolyat. I was away _again_ on another mission when they struck."

Shepard's only response was a tightening of her hand on his, and abruptly, it was all too much. Too much sorrow. Too much regret. Too much sympathy. He pulled away, going so far as to rise and move to the shelving against the wall, his guns prominently on display.

After a moment, Shepard followed him, coming to stand at his side, her eyes politely trained on his guns instead of on his person. "Where is Kolyat now?"

Thane canted his head to the side, unwilling – or unable- to look her in the eyes just yet, "Even while searching for Irikah's killers, Kolyat was never far from my thoughts. I created a package for him to be delivered upon my death and entrusted it to a volus banker on the Citadel. It was a relic of my ill-spent life. But he acquired it early and left the home world. My contacts tell me he has gone to the Citadel and has accepted a contract as a hit man. I did wet work on the Citadel around the time his mother died. That may be why he went there." A weak explanation, but all that he had.

The thought of Kolyat following in his footsteps chilled him to the bone. The work was so dangerous; Kolyat didn't know what he was doing. He could be killed! Thane kept his body relaxed and his mind calm. He _had_ to secure Shepard's help. Only the Normandy was fast enough to get them there in time to stop Kolyat from doing this terrible thing. "I need your help to stop him. He is – " Thane choked off his next words and tried again. "This is not a path he should walk."

"You don't hire a raw rookie for a contract killing." Her tone was doubtful.

Thane shifted on his feet uncomfortably. "Contained in the package was Kolyat's family necklace." He reached up with one hand and touched the cool metal decorating his throat in demonstration. "I took it from him before I gave him into the care of his Aunts and Uncles, then I paid the Shadow Broker a hefty sum to keep his association with me a secret. He should not share my name any longer. But if he was to put the necklace back on…"

Shepard quickly understood, "He would have your name again. And he could have used that to get work."

"I don't know _why_ he would accept the task." Thane admitted, his frustration rolling through the room as a deep rumble. "If I had known this would be the outcome when I created the package, I would have destroyed it instead. He should not respect me or my name." Not after all the effort Thane had put into ensuring Kolyat's safety. Not after accepting another man as father. Not after Irikah. "This not the life I wish for him. I cut ties to keep him safe, to keep him from following in my footsteps. If he hated me for it – so be it. "

"Maybe he is doing it to be closer to you." Shepard suggested.

The idea had crossed his mind. "That thought haunts me more than any other."

"Thane, I don't have your contacts. I'll help however I can, but what good can I really do?" She seemed frustrated and did not realized that her simple participation in this conversation was doing more to balance and center him than meditation had a chance of doing.

"The Normandy is the only ship fast enough to get me there with any hope of stopping Kolyat." Thane told her.

She seemed to relax. "You just need me to get you there? I can do that."

Thane hesitated, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. "I would appreciate it if you would accompany me on my search as well," he told her quietly.

She turned to face him, her expression dubious. "I'll gladly help, but are you sure this is what you want? I can't track people like you can. Wouldn't your old friend Shadow Thief be a better option?"

"I don't need your help. I want it, " he admitted, to himself and her. He did not wish to walk down this dark and difficult path alone. Having a siha at his side, to support and guide him was more than he deserved, but he was low enough to ask anyway. "The last time I saw my son –" Thane choked on his words, his memory of that time rising. He tried to fight it down, but was swept away.

"_They'd wrapped her body in sea-vines. Weighted it with stones. He tries to pull from me. Calls for her. The hanar lift her off the platform. _

_They sing like bells, 'The fire has gone to be kindled anew' _

_He begs them not to take her away._

_They let her body slide into the water._

_He hits me, 'Don't let them! Stop them! Why weren't you-'_

_It rains. It always rains on Kahje. Warm water pours down his face."_

Thane lowered his head and went silent, still fighting the memory. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Shepard turn her face away. "I didn't mean to make you relive that."

Thane turned to face her and smiled slightly, despite the circumstance. She cared so much for others. "Perfect memory. It is sometimes a burden."

"I'll get us to the Citadel as soon as possible." She seemed at a loss for words. Thane well understood the feeling.

He tilted his head at her, a nonverbal offering of gratitude to one who had already done so much for him and was about to do yet more. "Thank you, Shepard."

He stood there as she nodded back and left the room. Once she had departed, he turned and made his way slowly back towards the table, sinking back into his chair with overly careful movements. His soul was in turmoil over the memories dredged from shallow graves. He would need the short trip to the Citadel to regain his equilibrium. If they failed to stop Kolyat, then Thane knew not what would happen to his son, and that was an outcome Thane could not let occur.

ooOO00OOoo

Shepard and Thane raced for Talid's apartment, feet pounding in perfect sync, their minds in perfect agreement. They could not allow Kolyat to go through with this. The door opened to reveal Talid on his knees with the young drell's pistol pressed against his back.

Poor form, Thane thought absently as he studied the room for exits. Talid wouldn't die from a shot placed there. Other than the window with its sheer drop, the only way out for Kolyat was the door they'd come in. His son was well and truly trapped.

Shepard approached first, her pistol trained on his son. He prayed she wouldn't use it, but she was beyond his control. A siha had the right to do as she willed. He walked up and stood next to her, trying to maintain his calm. After ten long years, Kolyat stood in front of him again, prepared to take a life. This must be what humans meant when they said "a nightmare come true."

"Kolyat," he said, unsure if it was relief or fear that roughened his voice.

Disgust colored his son's face and tone. "This- this is a joke. Now? Now you show up?'

"Help me, Drell. I'll do whatever you want." Even now, Talid had such disdain for humans that he dismissed Shepard and appealed to Thane instead, despite the fact that _she_ was the one with the drawn weapon.

The door slid open behind them and Thane whipped around, his hand on the pistol at his side. He removed it when he saw who was coming through the door – Captain Bailey and one of his sergeants. Shepard was right to attempt to keep the information on Kolyat's contract as secret. This confrontation had just gotten more complicated.

"C-sec," Bailey announced as he entered the room with his pistol aimed at Kolyat. "Put the gun down, son."

Thane barely managed to contain the snarl of anger that wanted to unleash itself at the sight. He'd already lost Irikah, he would not allow Bailey to take away his son!

"Get back!" Kolyat demanded imperiously, so sure that he could salvage the situation. "I'm walking out. _He's_ coming with me." Kolyat pushed the gun more firmly against Talid's back. Foolish boy, that ploy would get him nowhere.

Thane turned to face his son and took a few steps forward cautiously, stopping as he saw Kolyat begin to tense. Thane knew he could end this with force. At this range, he was fast enough that Kolyat wouldn't see him coming – wouldn't have time to react. Thane knew he could trust Shepard not to flinch at the move and fire blindly, but the same could not be said of Bailey and his man. There was a good possibility that either Kolyat or Talid would be shot if the men from C-sec panicked. Thane cared nothing for himself.

"They'll have snipers outside," Thane told his son, trying to get Kolyat to _think_.

"I don't need your help," Kolyat spat in disgust, and Thane felt his throat constrict with dismay. Kolyat was too far gone into his anger and fear, too disconnected to see the truth: he was either caught, or dead.

Shepard fired her pistol and for a moment, Thane thought the worst of her. Then the lamp standing next to Kolylat sparked and fell. Kolyat shied away, glancing over at the fallen light.

"What the hell?" the would-be assassin asked in surprise, swinging his head around to look at Shepard only to find that she'd closed the distance while Kolyat wasn't looking.

Her fist made a deep fleshy sound as it connected with his son's jaw and Thane felt shame race through him. He'd only seen two ways out of the situation. She'd found a third.

While Kolyat staggered back into an upright position, his hand to the side of his face, eyes comically wide in shock, Shepard turned to the kneeling Turian. "Talid, get the hell out of here," she ordered him.

Talid stumbled to his feet. "Yeah. Yeah! I will," he said, limping for the door.

Bailey looked over at his sergeant. "Take the boy into custody."

"You son of a bitch!" Kolyat cried, and Thane wondered if he was speaking about Shepard, or Bailey. Or Thane.

"Belay that." Shepard said, holding on hand out to the side to stop the sergeant's forward movement.

"Shepard?" Bailey said, a warning cast to his tone.

"Not right now, Bailey." Shepard said turning to face the C-sec officers. "I need the two of you to wait outside."

"Now wait just a damn-" the Officer began to object.

Shepard held up a hand to forestall the man's arguments. "Spectre authority." She said, pulling rank without qualm.

"You got it." Bailey said without hesitation. He snagged his sergeant by the elbow, "C'mon. We're waiting outside."

The two of them left, and Thane and Shepard turned to look at Kolyat, the young Drell's eyes huge with surprise. "Spectre?" he said, his voice small and wavering for the first time on the edge of fear.

Shepard folded her arms and sank back into her hip, a fierce scowl settling on her features. "Yes. Spectre. I'm Commander Shepard and your father is a very valuable part of my crew." Thane felt a warm rush of gratitude towards her, she had already dropped everything to get him here in time to stop Kolyat, and now she was doing her best to help smooth things over with his son. Such compassion.

"My father is a coward that abandoned his family when we needed him most." Kolyat spat.

The words cut deep, as they were meant to. Thane lowered his head, pain sliding through him. Kolyat was so _angry_. Before he could speak, before the words tumbling about in his brain settled into some semblance of a pattern, Shepard was arguing in his defense.

"_Your father_ is an honorable man who has made some terrible decisions and is doing his best to make up for them. He is working with me to literally _save the galaxy_ so I think the least you can do is listen to what he has to say." She turned her head to the side, ignoring the shocked expression on Kolyat's face, and gestured Thane to speak.

But he could not think of anything to say in the face of such a staunch defense. He did not deserve the esteem of a siha. Not after he had already gotten one killed. He did not know what expression was on his face, but it only made Kolyat scowl. Thrusting the emotions Shepard had stirred up to the back of his mind for later consideration, Thane stepped forward and faced his son.

"Your mother – " Could he tell Kolyat this? Should he? It was his deepest shame, his darkest sin. That he'd consciously taken life – and enjoyed it. "They killed her to get to me. It was my fault."

"What?" Shock made Kolyat lower his arms from where they had been folded across his chest, softened the harsh condemnation that had been in his voice.

Thane struggled for a moment as to what to say. He did not want to drag his son any deeper down this path of sin, but Kolyat deserved answers. "One of my targets' lieutenants paid for my name, then went after you and your mother as punishment. I was so certain I had kept my private life away from my work; I was careless. I became disconnected after her spirit moved on from this world; I did as my body willed. I hunted the triggermen, the ringleaders. Anyone who was associated with her death was killed. I was not gentle. When I went back to see you, you were – older." Regret sang in Thane's voice. "I should have stayed with you."

"I guess it's too bad for me that you waited so long, huh?" The words were cruel, but the tone was not. It was sadness that thickened Kolyat's voice.

Thane blinked up at him. When had Kolyat gotten so tall? He saw the grief in his son's gaze and for a moment, Thane was filled with wonder. Even though he'd been abandoned for ten years, Kolyat had missed his father.

"Kolyat, I've taken many bad things out of this world. You are the only good thing I have added to it."

Kolyat bowed his head as tears began to stream down his face. Who were they for? Irikah? Kolyat? …Thane?

Thane stepped forward and wrapped one arm around Kolyat's shoulders, resting his forehead against his son's. Perhaps now the healing could begin. He still had much to atone for and no doubt Kolyat still had many things he wanted to say. The road ahead would not be easy, but Kolyat's tears had brought him hope.

"Thane." Shepard's voice was soft, but insistent.

Thane pulled away from his son and turned to face her. "Si-Shepard." He stumbled over the word. Kolyat would remember that Thane had called Irikah, Siha. To call Shepard by the same moniker now would be to invite disaster.

"I am sorry, but we must go. I've spoken to Bailey." Shepard shifted her attention to Kolyat, who stared defiantly at her through his tears. "If you will agree to volunteer for Bailey, he will not arrest you. You will have to do community service for however long he, and I, deem necessary. You will not be paid, but you will be given a stipend for food, and lodgings have already been selected for you close to Bailey's. He can help you get settled in." Her gaze sharpened, her voice turning implacable. "This is the one and only chance you get, kid. I suggest you accept it. And _don't_ fuck it up."

Kolyat opened his mouth angrily, but closed it again when Thane laid a gentle hand on his arm. He glanced at his father in annoyance, but nevertheless took the time to consider the Commander's words. "Fine," the boy snapped.

Shepard's spine stiffened into an impossibly straight line, but she restricted herself to a curt, "Good," before stalking over to the door. "Bailey. It's time," she said to the Officer.

The two C-sec officers came back into the room, and Bailey took the scene in with one swift glance. "Take Kolyat and his father back to the precinct. Give them a room and as much time as they need."

After the two Drell left, Shepard stepped closer to Bailey. "Thank you. I know you didn't need to do that. If you ever need anything, let me know. Might as well use this Spectre status for something. But I have to ask, _why_ were you so willing to help? You hardly took any convincing."

Bailey grimaced, but answered the question. "He's not the only man to have screwed up raising a son."

ooOO00OOoo

The door closed behind them and for a moment, Thane and Kolyat stared at the table set in the middle of the room in silence. Neither quite had the courage to look at the other. Thane paced forward and took a seat, holding his breath until Kolyat did the same. Thane folded his hands in front of himself and waited, head bowed. He would not push Kolyat. Not now.

Eventually, Kolyat blurted out a question in his impatience, as Thane knew he would. "Why did you leave? Where did you go?"

"I went to the Citadel first. I'd had dealings with an agent of the Shadow Broker. An old friend of mine met me there, and together we began the hunt for the ones who killed your mother. We discovered that they had paid the Shadow Broker twice. First, for my name. Then, afraid to face me, they paid again for two more names: yours and your mothers."

Kolyat sucked in a breath, one hand reaching up to touch the family necklace around his neck. "Is that why?"

Thane lowered his eyes again and rubbed his fingers together. "Yes. They paid for the name Kolyat Krios. But Kolyat was not such an unusual name at the time. By taking your necklace and placing you in the care of your mother's sister, I changed your name enough that no one would associate your new name with your old one. Then I paid the Shadow Broker enough credits to ensure his silence on the matter." Thane paused. Should he tell the rest? Yes. The time for silence was past. "The fee was substantial, but not beyond what I could afford. I was paid well for my skills."

"Then where'd it all go, huh? Where's the money? Why are you still wearing that old jacket instead of buying a new one? Can't afford it?" Kolyat's tone was again sharp and cutting, his eyes flashing with ire. "Spent it all on booze and sluts I bet."

"On the contrary, I spent most of it during the eight years I was tracking down your mother's killer. They'd scattered to the far edges of the galaxy and it took a large sum of credits just to get to where they hid." Thane's eyes drifted away from his son to the walls of the room. "The jacket is the one your mother gave me on our wedding day."

"But the sleeves…" Kolyat objected.

Thane held up one hand, turning it so Kolyat could see the slightly ragged edges cut along the edges of his palms. "I could not bear to be separated from the jacket, but I would not lie. A compromise."

Kolyat studied the holes as if they contained all the answers he sought.

"I set up an account with the Shadow broker. Every year he kept your identity a secret, I paid him half a million credits." Thane told his son.

"Half a-" Kolyat stuttered over the total, then his gaze hardened. "And exactly how long was this supposed to keep me safe? Two years? Three? Why would you agree to pay so much money?"

Thane blinked. "I would have paid more to keep you safe. I think the Shadow Broker knew that. I believe he kept the price deliberately low so I would be in his debt. The account pays out automatically; the money will continue to go out, so long as you are alive. If you choose to," Thane waved his hand vaguely at the necklace around Kolyat's neck, "-then I could cancel payment. It would be irrelevant anyway. In that event, I would turn the remaining credits over to you. They could still benefit you in other ways."

"I don't want your money!" Kolyat denied angrily. "You can't buy my love or forgiveness."

"I wasn't trying to-" Thane objected.

"And what's with that damn human, huh?" Kolyat continued with punishing insistence. "You trying to replace mom? You didn't give a damn when she pointed a gun at me, but you about strangled yourself trying not to snarl at the C-sec officers when they did the same thing."

"I have learned much about the Commander since I joined her crew. Not even death can prevent her from carrying out her work. And she would never harm an innocent." Thane's voice was hushed and filled with awe. Shepard had done so much for him. Woken him from his battle sleep, returned his son to him, allowed him this chance to atone, all the while helping the rest of her crew with their problems _and_ still actively going after the Collectors. Sure as the sunrise, she was transcendent.

"Saving the galaxy?" Kolyat asked. His tone was not skeptical, but close, as if he couldn't quite bring himself to believe his father, but he dare not disbelieve the Commander.

"She asked for my help. I could not refuse." Thane said simply.

"You're not going to share that with me, are you?" Kolyat's tone was abruptly cold again.

"It is not my tale to tell," Thane said regretfully.

Kolyat closed his eyes and brought on hand up, pressing it against the large plates on his head. "I…think you should go."

"Of course." Thane was instantly on his feet. Much as he longed to stay, he promised himself he wouldn't push Kolyat.

"…Dad?" Kolyata called, stopping Thane before he exited the room.

Thane turned back around and faced his son.

"Come back soon, okay?" Thane heard the voice of a little boy in the man Kolyat had become. He said that years ago, when Thane would leave on new contracts. Thane was sure the mimicry was deliberate.

"As you wish, my son." Thane replied, the same now as then.

As he stepped through the doors and returned to Shepard's side, Thane couldn't help but think that hope had returned. He was free of his battle sleep, and Kolyat was not only back in his life, but actively wanted to speak to him again. And it was all thanks to her.

ooOO00OOoo

Author's Note: Okay. I realize that two of the three scenes in this chapter covers material that has been done over and over ad nauseam. But I am ridiculously proud of them nonetheless. I really feel like I got _inside _Thane's head on this one, no mean feat!


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The trip back to the Normandy was a silent one. Shepard was tired, and Thane understood. They had been searching for Mouse for six hours before they found him; tracking down Kelham took even longer. Kolyat had used the better part of two hours to show himself… When it was all said and done, they had put in a fourteen-hour day. Without the adrenaline punch usually acquired in a life-or-death struggle, Shepard was dragging. Thane struggled with himself, trying to control the overwhelming enthusiasm and reverence he had for Shepard. He didn't want to inundate her with his feelings like a young child seeing their hero for the first time, but he was filled with gratitude for her help – she'd saved Kolyat in more ways than one today.

First, she found a third option out of the stalemate Kolyat had trapped himself in. The memory was an uncomfortable amalgam of admiration and regret. The fact that he'd even _thought_ she'd shot Kolyat made his neck-ridges flush with shame.

Then she'd gone a step farther and convinced Captain Bailey to allow Kolyat to serve time with community service. No juries, no courtroom, not even an arrest would go on his record. As far as the world knew, Kolyat was _volunteering_ his services to C-sec, for the betterment of the Citadel. When he'd asked for her help and she in turn asked him why, Thane told her truthfully that he wanted – not needed- it. Now, he realized he was wrong. Alone, Thane would never have gotten the information out of Bailey about Mouse as quickly as they did, and he never would have gotten C-sec's assistance in interrogating Elias Kelham. The best resolution Thane could have hoped for with Kolyat would have been a good lawyer and a sympathetic jury – after Thane came forward and sacrificed himself by testifying to being the cause of Kolyat's ill-fated choice.

Instead, Thane was still free, and Kolyat was serving minor duty under the watchful eyes of Captain Bailey. To Thane, it was nothing short of a miracle. Thinking back over all of the impossible things Shepard did regularly, Thane realized that she performed miracles everyday. She existed on that knife's edge of probability where things could not and should not be, yet somehow were.

He was startled out of his ruminations by a hand clapping itself upon his shoulder. He looked up at Shepard in surprise. When had he become so comfortable around her that her proximity hadn't set off any subconscious alarms? When had he started trusting her enough that her very presence meant he relaxed enough to shut out the world around him while he meditated? Trusting her to keep him safe while he was lost within himself she was, no doubt, the only person in the galaxy who could sneak up on him.

"C'mon, Thane," she said cheerfully, unaware of how momentous it was that she'd surprised him, "time to go. We're docked back at the Normandy."

"Of course," he said, standing up. "My apologies."

Thane followed her out the doors, eyes on the strong lines of her back. He quickened his pace to catch up with her, intending to thank her again, when the blue avatar of the ship's AI appeared at the first console outside the cargo hold doors.

"Welcome back, Commander." EDI said, and Thane could hear warmth in the computerized tone.

"Thanks, EDI," Shepard said, pausing to speak with the computer.

"Yeoman Chambers apologizes for asking this of you before you have a chance to go to your cabin, but she wishes me to confer her worries about crewman Grunt. He has been highly agitated for the past six hours and has the rest of the crew extremely nervous. She asks that you speak to him – while still in your combat gear. She feels it might be safer for you." EDI's blue light flickered while she spoke, privately sending Thane a different message via Hanar bioluminescent patterns.

It was stilted and choppy, difficult to understand because she only used blue and ultraviolet light, but he caught the main points. She was glad he was back and relieved that the situation with Kolyat had been positively resolved. She also mentioned something about 'his' Volus banker – possibly Barla Von – but that part had been particularly tangled. He got the feeling she had additional information for him.

"Where is Grunt?" Shepard asked, alarmed.

"Still inside the port cargo area. He has contained all of his activities there." EDI told the Commander.

"I'm on my way." Shepard turned on her heel and stormed off.

"Understood, Shepard. Logging you out."

Thane waited until the elevator doors closed behind Shepard before he turned to speak to the waiting AI. "My apologies," he said with a slight bow, "but I did not understand all of your words."

She responded by quickly flashing through a series of colors and patterns that he easily translated.

"Ah, thank you. I had suspected as much, but it is good to know for sure. If I may ask, you did you obtain this knowledge?"

Another quick flick, and Thane had his answer.

"I see. You are a truly remarkable individual." Thane bowed to her gratefully. "Thank you for your assistance."

She glowed one final time, and then the avatar disappeared. Thane headed for the elevator.

So, Barla Von _had_ knowingly sent the package to Kolyat early. With EDI's information, now he knew how and why. All that was left was to determine what to do with the information.

The elevator paused at the engineering deck on the way up to the crew deck, admitting a tired looking Commander Shepard.

"Oh, good. It's you." She said as she entered the elevator and leaned against the railing.

"Is something the matter?" Thane asked with concern, a croon slipping free of him. He wished to help her now, as he felt he had in the kitchen days ago.

"Depends on how you think of it." Shepard said as the doors slid closed and she pressed the button for the CIC. The elevator resumed its ascent, and the Commander closed her eyes, her face relaxing into an expression of fatigue. It seemed unusual for her to be this open about herself. Usually, she only projected cheer, or fierce determination. Her frankness moved him. "The bad news is that he has completely destroyed the port cargo hold. Boxes of parts and locked storage containers have been flung all over the place. While I was there, he head-butted the glass looking into the generator room hard enough to crack it. Then he asked _me_ why he'd done it."

The doors opened to the crew deck, and she raised an eyebrow when Thane didn't move. He could not leave her while she had that expression on her face. Like she was just waiting for the next catastrophe to happen.

The doors slid closed and she resumed talking, "EDI has no information on Krogan diseases that could cause a spike in aggression. Of course, she has no information on Krogan diseases at _all._ They are unwilling to share medical information about their species. Surprise, surprise." She leaned back, resting her head against the wall, her face pale, "and I thought Grunt was aggressive to begin with. At least Tuchanka is close to the Citadel, we'll be there in a few hours." Shepard pulled free of the wall, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet, forcing energy through her limbs. "The good news is that he hasn't destroyed any other rooms on the ship, and the crates were either filled with extremely durable metal parts, or extraneous junk we didn't need anyway."

The doors opened again and the two of them exited onto the CIC, Thane's soothing croon filling the space. He was glad that Garrus wasn't on deck; he'd be able to hear it, and Thane wasn't sure he would be able to smother the noise, even if he wanted to. Shepard needed someone to stand at her side right now, for the exhaustion seemed to hover over her shoulder, an invisible specter waiting to pounce as she approached the galaxy map.

She plotted a course for Tuchanka, looking oddly out of place in her combat gear. The shining plates reminding him of his own impending molt. Already his scales were itchy and loose. In a few hours, a day at most, they would loosen more and begin to slough off in patches.

Shepard returned to the elevator, and Thane tried to change his croon to the rumble that had helped her relax before. Perhaps she would rest for a while before they reached Tuchanka.

"Plan on joining me in the Captain's Cabin?" she asked with amusement when he failed to select a floor.

"I would never presume…" Thane objected. He hadn't intended on following her _through_ the door of her cabin, merely _to_ it.

She waved his words away, "I don't mind. I have an open door policy, you know that. I must warn you though," she said, casting him a sly glance, "if you _do_ come in, I'm going to put you to work helping me get out of this stuff." She gestured at her armor. "It's a bitch to do alone."

"I would be happy to be of assistance," Thane told her, glad for the invitation. He might not have been looking for one, but he was unwilling to pass it by.

She led them out of the elevator, opening the door to her cabin with a sweep of her hand. "EDI calls this the Loft," Shepard told Thane as she descended the three steps into the main part of the room. "I prefer to think of it as my cave." She stopped just to the far side of the fish tank and took all of her guns off, laying them on the bed. Moving over to the holographic console on the wall, she waved him over with a hand as sections of the wall began to expand into the room, revealing drawers designed to hold her armor.

Moving up to the first one, she began releasing the seals on her gauntlets, freeing them from the black mesh underneath. "Would you get the ones on my spine? I always have the most trouble with them."

"Of course, Si-Shepard," Thane said, stepping up behind her and reaching for the seal at the base of her neck. He'd almost called her 'siha' again.

He had no doubt of what she was. Her skill in battle was awe inspiring, and her wrath at those who dared attack the people under her protection was truly frightening. It seemed that everything she did was for the betterment of someone else. She genuinely was a siha, and he was humbled that Arashu had allowed him to meet a second one. He knew he was not worthy of such a gift, but would not turn away.

Nimble fingers released the clasps in record time. He moved around to her right side, kneeling down to reach the seals on her ankles. In short order, they had her free of the armor, with each piece neatly stowed away, back in their hidden compartment. Shepard grinned mischievously at him, black mesh the only thing keeping her modest, "What was that you said about amateurs in custom painted armor?" she asked rhetorically, inputting a set of commands into the display. The compartments hummed and whirred a moment before opening to reveal armor that was now the same green as his scales.

"Shepard," Thane laughed, "what is this?"

Her eyes widened into an innocent visage, "Why, it's my custom painted armor, of course." She chuckled, "Wait here. I'm going to wash the grime off me, then we'll talk." She rooted around in her closet, retrieving a fresh uniform before heading to her personal bathroom at the top of the stairs. Thane gazed after her fondly. She probably wasn't as tired as he imagined, but she had granted him entrance into her private rooms, and allowed him to care for her anyway. His gratefulness swelled in his chest, and he released it into the room in the sound of a pleased hum. He would stay by her side, if only she allowed him. He owed her so much for all she had done.

He turned away as he heard the sound of the shower, suddenly uncomfortably aware that the only thing separating them was one extremely thin door. Turning his back on temptation, Thane found himself face to face with her bed, loaded down with weapons. He thought briefly of cleaning them for her, but discounted it immediately. He'd never known a professional that didn't care for their own weapons. She would be justifiably angry with him if he touched them.

Unwilling to spend his time perusing the personal effects hidden in quiet niches across the various surfaces of her room – it was bad enough they were burned into his memory – Thane turned again, to face her fish tank.

Her empty fish tank.

He stepped closer, looking for any hidden crustaceans or sea worms. There weren't any. She had a fish tank that took up more than half of a wall, and it was completely devoid of life. He wondered what that said about her.

Seeing the water reminded him of the sea-scapes he'd been so fond of painting. Perhaps he should pick the hobby back up. His talks with Shepard certainly gave him many things to ponder, but he couldn't be sedentary all the time. Since meeting Shepard, the longing to fall back into his memories with Irikah had slowly faded. His love for her had not dimmed, and he would of course always remember her, but his world and thoughts no longer revolved around her.

Now he'd turned to face a different star. One no less bright, it simply illuminated alternate things. And the things he saw were beautiful.

The water shut off, but it was still a few minutes before Shepard emerged. Thane spent the time deciding which image he wanted to paint first. He'd witnessed many enthralling things on his travels, and he longed to permanently capture them in a more tangible way.

He laughed just as the door to the bathroom opened and Shepard stepped through.

"What's so funny?" she asked, her wet hair once more tied back in a bun. Did she ever let it down?

"I was simply marveling at the fact that I am alive. You truly have awoken me." Thane said a rare, full smile spreading across his lips.

She descended the steps toward him, her head cocked to the side quizzically, even as her shoulders rose in what was likely a gesture of inquisition. "You never really described that battle sleep thing to me. What is it?"

"It is…" Thane considered his words, then hit upon an idea. Wasn't it a human who had said that a picture was worth a thousand words? "Humor me," he told her, then spun on his heel and grabbed her assault rifle off the bed. Quickly removing the ammo block from its underside – a move that effectively unloaded the weapon – he tossed it to her. "Strip it down as if you were to clean it," he told her.

She gave him an odd look, but did as he requested, quickly removing and then replacing all of the individual components of her rifle. The whole process took under a minute. Impressive.

She tossed it back to him and he caught it with surprise. She would arm him while remaining defenseless? What trust. How far they'd come in a few short weeks. Not that long ago, she wouldn't even sit at the same table with him.

"What was that about?" She asked, one hand on her hip.

"A demonstration," he rumbled, replacing the ammo block and returning her rifle to the bed. Her trust was not misplaced. "How much thought did you put behind those actions?"

"Not very much. I've been field-stripping weapons for years. I could probably do it in my sleep, though I'd really rather not find out." She paused. "That's battle sleep?"

"In a way." Thane moved towards her, gesturing at the model ships she had on display. "When you work on piecing together one of your models, do people often complain that you are ignoring them?"

She blushed, a light coloring across her cheeks that fascinated him. "Well, yeah. Sometimes." She brought her right hand up and rubbed the back of her neck. "I can just really get caught up in them. Some of the pieces are really tiny, and I have to concentrate to make them all fit."

"So it is with battle sleep. Like your models, hunting a target requires concentration. Also like your models, there is a system to it. A pattern." He gestured with his hands, flashing the exposed portions of his wrists where she could see them. "Locate the target, their home, their work. Identify close friends and relations. Study customs and culture, if they are unfamiliar. Map patterns of behavior. Each a task that could easily take months. I get to know my targets in a matter of days. By the time I strike, I know them better than they know themselves. The acquisition and processing of such large amounts of data takes up all of my time, and much of my mental faculties. There is no room for life or family. Hobbies and interests fall by the wayside, unimportant in the face of my goal. Training and experience come together in me to block out all distractions. Like you with your rifle, I become nothing but motions, engrossed in the next step in the chain."

She frowned, "You don't think?"

Thane smiled. It no longer frustrated him that she did not understand. Rather, he appreciated that she tried. "It is not that I do not think. It is that I do not think _of anything else._"

"So, when you say that you are waking from your battle sleep, you're really saying that you are becoming more involved in the world around you?" There was a hint of exaltation in her tone, as if she knew that she'd gotten it right.

"Yes, exactly."

Shepard grinned at him, as if proud of her accomplishment. He returned her gaze, no longer so disturbed by the things he saw there. Just as he was no longer sunk deep into his battle sleep, she held much more life than death in her countenance. She, too, was alive once more.

"I would like to thank you again for your assistance with Kolyat," Thane said, bowing deeply before her, once again flashing her the exposed portions of his wrists. He didn't bother hiding the flirtations nature of the gesture. With her, it felt natural, and she likely would not understand. 

"How could I do any less? He needed your help." She dismissed the matter with a shrug. "I think Bailey will take good care of him."

"I agree." Reluctantly, Thane began to move towards the doors. She likely had things to do. "I shall return to my meditations. You know where to find me if I am needed."

"Yeah, sure." She blinked at him in confusion. "Didn't you want to talk about something?" She asked, catching him just inside the door.

"I merely wished to thank you," he denied. He wanted to stay, to speak to her more of the things that interested her, to listen while she shared a small sliver of her busy life with him. But he had no good reason to stay – and she needed her rest.

ooOO00OOoo

_She stands in the catwalks of the Citadel wards, gripping the guardrail with all her strength. A Turian with two Krogan bodyguards walks away from her, unaware of the menace hiding in wait for them in the shadows. Movement flickers out of the corner of her eye and she turns, catching sight of the silent predator stalking its unwary prey._

_But it is not the shockingly familiar form of an adolescent male Drell she sees, but the dark grey uniform of her old LT, his arms lit with biotic blue. She feels her breath hitch painfully in her chest. It can't be. He's dead._

_Kaidan._

_A strangled cry erupts from her mouth and she watches helplessly as Kaidan sprints forward, a pistol in his raised right hand._

_"Kai-!_

_The Krogan turn at the sound of her voice and she abruptly cuts it off, wishing she could take it back._

_Kaidan reaches out with mnemonic gesture of his left hand and lifts the two Krogan off their feet. Their legs kick helplessly even as they keep their weapons trained on their attacker._

_The Turian has vanished, and there is an indistinct murmur in her ears, a gravely voice calling her name. But she can't _think_, can't _speak._ Her world has narrowed to this single moment as her dead lover takes aim at the Krogan with one pistol, while two assault rifles aim back._

_Time stretches strangely. She can feel the air passing through her lungs, the blood rushing fruitlessly through her veins. Her feet are nailed to the floor, her hands useless at her sides. She can't move. Can't act. She stands by and watches in helpless horror as the Krogan fire their rifles._

_The first few shots are absorbed by his personal shields. Then his kinetic barriers are overwhelmed by the barrage of bullets, and he jerks with the impact of the slugs in his chest and ribs. He loses control of his biotics, his pistol shots go wide, and the Krogan fall to the ground; momentarily stunned, but unhurt._

_A blink, and the rifles are back up, the Krogan advancing swiftly on Kaidan._

_Another blink and more shots are fired. Kaidan stumbles backwards, then collapses in a boneless heap, a puppet with his strings cut. The bodyguards advance farther, never letting go of the triggers. Kaidan's body twitches on the ground with the force of the impacts, but there is no other sign of life. His face is calm, peaceful._

_Only now can she move, only now do her muscles lose their rigidity, and she staggers a half-step forwards, collapsing against a railing that bears the imprint of her fingers._

_She's killed him twice._

_Once in her old life, and once again in her new. If she'd kept her mouth shut. If she hadn't _frozen_ like a green recruit. If she'd been _faster_ and _better_…_

_The Krogan have walked off, the Turian is long gone. The civilians fled as soon as the shooting started. The area is clear of anything save the crumpled form of her lover and the slowly spreading stain under him._

_She was screaming, but only knew because her throat was raw. She was crying, but only knew because her hands were wet from her out pouring of grief. A roar filled her ears, and beyond it - beneath it - she heard the final thing she ever said to the only man she'd loved._

"I'm sorry, Kaidan. I had to make a choice."

_A shadow detaches itself from the wall and resolves itself into the form of a Drell. It's Thane, and as he approaches the body splayed on the ground, his face is filled with such grief that she wonders how he knew Kaidan._

_But it is no longer a human who is laid out on the floor, but a slim Drell, her blue scales glinting dully in the harsh lights of the corridor. And Shepard knows, without knowing how, that this is Irikah._

_Thane kneels at Irikah's side and touches her with such reverence that it slices through some of Shepard's own pain, and she feels a sort of twisted kinship with the grief-stricken man. He touches Irika's neck, her face, her eyes. A high, keening wail echoes throughout the space, and the sound resonates through Shepard's bones._

_He raises his eyes to hers, and they are as dead as the ones she sees in the mirror._

ooOO00OOoo

Shepard sat up in her bed with a gasp, chilled, the sheets clinging tenaciously to her sweat-damp legs. She freed herself from their grasp and hurled to the floor. She lay there trembling for a moment before forcing herself to her feet. She ascended the steps to the bathroom on shaky feet and splashed cold water on her face. She leaned forward, placing her forehead against the glass, avoiding her reflection. She tried to clear her mind, focusing on her breathing. But the light shining through her closed eyelids was the same shade of the atomic blast on Virmire, and she began to hyperventilate.

She left the bathroom and was greeted by her desk – and the picture of a smiling Kaidan sitting atop it.

"_I understand, Commander. I don't regret a thing."_ Kaidan's last words rang in her ears.

He might not have regretted a thing, but she did. Oh, she did.

The list of things she regretted was far longer than the Normandy, but he was at the absolute top. She regretted falling in love with him. She regretted ever letting him step foot off the Normandy that fateful day on Virmire.

But most of all, she regretted the necessity of sacrificing anyone – especially him.

Unable to face the memories anymore, Shepard escaped out of her cabin and down to the crew deck. It was 0300 hours, and no one should be awake to see her. She was about to do something she'd rarely done – drink on the job. But it was the only way she would be able to focus come 0600.

She hoped.

Gardner kept a bottle of cooking sherry in the back of the cabinet, and she retrieved it with little difficulty. She chose a glass for sanitation's sake and sat down at one of the tables, intent on dulling the pain.

ooOO00OOoo

Thane withdrew from meditation when he heard the elevator doors slide open. It was rare for anyone to be awake at this hour. Even Mr. Moreau had retired a few hours ago leaving the ship running on autopilot. He'd heard the human's uncertain footsteps disappear down the hall at midnight.

Shuffled feet made their way to the kitchen and he heard the tell-tale squeak of a certain cabinet door; another crewmember sneaking some of Gardner's wine in an effort to quell the nightmares.

Thane sighed softly and rose to his feet. Gardner had asked him to discover who was 'nicking' his sherry so it could be reported to the Commander. Thane well understood the pressures they were all under, but alcohol on a mission would only lead to deadly mistakes. He used one of the alternate exits from his room to avoid alerting the drinker. Dropping into the hallway, he padded on silent feet around the corner, braced for a confrontation. What he saw stopped him cold.

"Commander?"

Her head snapped up, then lowered again into continued contemplation of her drink.

"Krios." Her voice was dead now, but her eyes had not been. Pain filled them to the brim, an ocean overflowing with bitter tears.

He approached the table carefully, wary of frightening her off. She looked terribly fragile. He had no words he could offer, so he crooned comfortingly, attempting to pitch it high enough that she could hear it. It seemed to work. After a moment, her tense shoulders relaxed a little, and she gestured at the chair across from her. He settled into the seat gingerly and continued to croon at her.

Her hands were shaking.

Wishing only to soothe the woman he'd come to so respect, Thane reached out and covered her hands with both of his own where they were wrapped around her glass. The bottle sat forgotten by her elbow.

Once again, she looked at him, and her eyes were filled with such grief that his heart ached in response. She stared at him, looking for some sort of answer in his gaze. Eventually, she looked down at their joined hands. Then she spoke.

"You heard what happened on Virmire two years ago, right?" she asked softly.

"I have." He tried to match her tone.

"I sacrificed one of my crew to destroy a cure for the genophage in an effort to stop Saren." She closed her eyes. "In one fell swoop I condemned the Krogan to slowly die out. I became a one-woman genocide machine. Wrex objected to this plan, and I almost lost him that day. I _did_ lose Kaidan." She took a deep shuddering breath. "He was my lover – almost."

"Siha-"

She shook her head almost violently, cutting him off. "We were waiting until the mission was complete. Until we could be together without breaking regs and disrupting the crew." She freed one hand and grasped the bottle, taking a large swig. She slammed it back down with a gasp. "Captain Kirrahe and his men were holed up in the AA tower, sacrificing themselves to give us the opportunity to set the nuke. They were overrun. They weren't going to make the rendezvous. Kaidan still needed to arm the bomb and set the timer. He urged me to go after Ash and Kirrahe. I left him a guard and did as he asked." She hunched her shoulders as if to ward off a blow. "That was the last time I saw him alive." She laughed bitterly. "Hell, that was the last time I saw him at all."

Speechless, Thane began to croon again. What could one say in the face of such grief?

She turned her hand over and grasped his fingers with crushing power. He gripped back, offering her what strength he could.

She began to speak again, her words seemingly torn from her unwilling mouth, her voice thick with unshed tears. "Halfway to Ash, a Geth dropship flew overhead and landed on top of the bomb. They were attempting to stop us. So Kaidan did the only thing he could think of to do: he removed the timer and armed the bomb. I found myself stuck between two impossible decisions. I could continue onward and rescue Ash and half of Kirrahe's men, as well as give us all a better chance of making it out alive to stop Saren…or I could turn around and go back to Kaidan and the bomb. A bomb I had already been told was unstoppable once the internal chain reaction had begun.

Thane smelled the salt of the sea and realized she was crying. Tears poured down her cheeks in silent agony as she continued to speak. He'd never been so moved by someone else's grief before. He longed to move to her side of the table and take her in his arms. He wanted to place her on his lap, tuck her head under his chin and comfort her. He wanted to share her grief and take away her pain. He wanted to kiss away her tears.

Not as disturbed by this revelation, as he would have been once upon a time, Thane forced himself to do none of these things. He limited himself to running a thumb over the back of her hand.

"The worst part is how _cold_ I was about the whole thing. How very bloody minded. I stood there, holding on to the railing, and listened as Kaidan and Ashley bickered over the headset. Each one wanted for me to leave them behind, to save the other. All I could do was count. Kirrahe had three squads of twenty men each trapped at the top of the tower with Ashley. If only a quarter of them were still alive, that was still seventeen people versus two. Add in a bomb that couldn't be stopped and all the people on the Normandy, and I just couldn't do it." She raised her head to look him in the eyes, her face beautiful and tragic. "I sacrificed the only man I've ever loved for sixteen strangers. To this day, I still don't know their names. All I have is this picture of them in my mind. They're all huddled in a corner of the cargo bay. There's only six of them – less than half of the original seventeen I estimated. But six is still more than two. Or so I keep telling myself as Kirrahe spews his thanks. But it isn't enough. It'll never be enough. Because I know – that if I'd known there were only six of them…I would have gone back for Kaidan. I killed him – or allowed him to die – and I bitterly regret it."

Still unable to find words, Thane fell back on action. He slid the glass and bottle away from her and beyond easy reach. She let him, her eyes tired and listless. Maneuvering her hands so that they were placed palms down on the table, Thane applied gentle pressure until she kept them there. Gently pushing her sleeves back, Thane wondered briefly if she was ever out of uniform. But her beautiful, slender wrists were revealed, and for a moment he was undone. Forcibly reminding himself that he was doing this for _her_, Thane gathered his thoughts and tentatively touched the backs of her wrists with his joined fingers. He traced them down her hands, following the lines of bone and tendon until he reached her middle finger. He followed it down farther, learning the shape and texture of her strange fingernails. Then he moved back to her wrist and stroked down her hand again, flowing down over her thumb.

He had turned her hands over, and was tracing the strange lines he found on the palm of her hand when she gave a small, contented sigh. And the words were there.

"Decisions such as these are never easy, Commander. Would that life was forgiving enough to allow us to save them all. But for all that you specialize in the impossible, you are only one woman, and cannot be in two places at once. You are correct; it _was_ an impossible choice to make. There is no right answer, only wrong ones." He squeezed her hands until she looked at him. "This does not mean that _you_ did anything wrong. When there is no opportunity to act for good, you must choose your options wisely. Not acting would have been the worst choice of all. I do not know what reactions others have had to this news, but I know that Lieutenant Alenko did not hold your choice against you. If he did not regret it, how then can you?"

She looked at him with wide eyes. "I…you couldn't – I didn't tell you what he said. How could you know?"

Thane smiled softly at her. "You said they were both urging you to save the other."

"He said…" she swallowed thickly. "He said, 'I understand, Commander. I don't regret a thing.'"

Giving in to temptation, Thane reached out with one hand and cupped her tear-stained cheek, taking some of that precious moisture as his own. "He didn't. I am sure he felt the same as I. Even though he was dying, he was glad to have met you. That his life had been made better –brighter – for having you in it. Do not let his sacrifice cripple you. Instead, allow it to be your strength." He cut off his last words with an effort of will. _Let _me_ be your strength._

She raised her hand and placed it on his, their other hands still entwined on the table. Her voice was rough and hoarse, the words heartfelt.

"Thank you."

Hours later, as the crew began to stir, Thane sent Shepard back upstairs to clean up and prepare for the day while he retreated back to his quarters. Raising dry fingers to his lips, it seemed that he could still faintly taste the sea.


	17. Chapter 17

Once again, I'd like to mention my two wonderful beta's: BlackAquoKat and MindTwinMari. Thank you so much for your help, Dears!

ooOO00OOoo

Shepard studied the information on the datapad in front of her, fingers absently folding a piece of paper into the form of a _muvar_. Over four thousand years ago, Tuchanka had been covered in a nuclear winter as the Krogan had done their level best to cause their own extinction. After so much time, the radiation levels were so low that not even humans needed to wear protective gear. Even so, the phrase 'barren wasteland' was a charitable description.

Once a lush world of green, the only plants left alive now were aggressively carnivorous and had been known to trap and kill prey as large as a varren. Over ninety-eight percent of the species had become extinct, and the few that were left had become tougher and meaner, the Krogan not exempted.

Who was she going to take down into that hell-hole? Mordin was too thin-skinned, and the Krogan had a particular dislike for Salarians anyway, Jack was way to edgy, complaining about how long it was taking to get to Pragia, Garrus had been playing least-in-sight, and the two Cerberus Operatives had both been rubbing her the wrong way lately. Tali…Shepard shook her head. Somehow, while they were chasing down Saren, it had never quite occurred to her how much more vulnerable Tali was in a firefight because of the risk of infection. Seeing Reeger so out of it due to a tiny suit puncture had really hit home to Shepard how easy it was to seriously harm Quarians. She'd left Tali on the ship since then, she couldn't handle the thought of losing another old friend.

Shepard mentally ran down the list of crewmembers. She'd effectively eliminated all but two of her team: Thane and Samara. Of the two, Thane was the better choice. Drell came from a harsh desert planet, which meshed well with the Krogan homeworld. Besides, her hands stilled over the paper as a thought occurred to her, with Thane's training, he would be a valuable asset when it came time to determine what was wrong with Grunt. He was probably second only to Mordin when it came to knowledge of Krogan biology.

Decision made, Shepard stood and headed for her armory against the wall. Using her omni-tool, she sent Thane and Grunt messages, telling them to meet her by the shuttle. She pulled on her mesh under-clothes and activated the shelving, laughing when she saw their dark green surfaces with red accents. Smirking, she left them that way, pulling them on with relish. She wanted to see what Thane would do when he saw her in his colors.

ooOO00OOoo

Thane watched in amusement as Shepard greeted the Krogan warlord with familiarity. Everywhere they went it seemed she knew someone. This then was Wrex, the Krogan who'd been with her two years ago. They talked briefly, and Thane found it unreasonably difficult to follow the conversation. Shepard hadn't changed her armor's color back to its usual blue and it was very…distracting. She was wearing his colors on her body, her plating and gauntlets decorated in the brilliant colors of his scales fresh from molting. He had promised his arm to her, and his defense to Liara, but now even his colors served to protect her.

Thinking of his impending molt brought the itch from his loosening scales to the forefront of his mind, and Thane fought the urge to remove his jacket and scratch. They were here to discover what was wrong with Grunt, not allow Thane the opportunity to scratch his back on the conveniently placed rubble with its handy sharp edges good for scraping off dead scales. Wrex headbutted another Krogan in a violent gesture that brought Thane's attention snapping back into focus. Foolish of him to allow his mind to wander while they were on a mission. Just because they were not in a firefight, did not mean that he should remain less than vigilant. The other Krogan stalked off and Shepard got down to business, asking Wrex what was wrong with young Grunt.

Nothing, it seemed. He was simply maturing into being a full adult.

By the simple fact of being on Shepard's team, Grunt was offered the opportunity to join clan Urdnot, high praise indeed for Shepard that the Clan Chief thought so well of her. Grunt accepted, of course. The adolescent Krogan had been searching for a place and people to attach himself to since he'd been awakened. This Rite of Passage seemed like it would answer some primal need.

Almost before he knew it, Thane found himself in an arena with Shepard and Grunt, carefully scoping the area they would be fighting in while the young Krogan babbled about pressing the keystone to begin the Rite. Annoyed, Thane tuned him out, ignoring Grunt as he inspected the area.

Multiple bodies lay scattered around; their scarred and melted forms a testament to the deadly nature of the Rite. Packs of medi-gel and spare heat sinks were also spread around, their careful placement certainly not a coincidence. Shepard scanned the assault rifle of one young Krogan before picking up his discarded rocket launcher.

"Hey, Grunt!" she called, tossing him the heavy weapon. "Hold on to that. Poor bastard doesn't need it anymore, and it just might save our skins."

Thane raised an eye ridge at her actions, but said nothing. Typically she was the only one to carry heavy weapons, preferring to keep the more powerful items out of her more volatile squad members' hands. Even those less likely to misuse the objects were subject to the ban. Shepard couldn't pay favorites, after all.

"Shepard, hit the keystone," Grunt urged from his place somewhere behind them.

She rolled her eyes, placing her back to one of the slightly more defensible corners they'd found. With so much broke rubble and debris littering the area, the footing was a dangerous mix of exposed metal bars and hidden sinkholes. There was nowhere to hide, and nowhere to run. This was a place designed to make you stand and fight. An uncomfortable prospect for an assassin used to striking from the shadows.

"Alright, alright!" Shepard grumbled, hefting her sniper rifle. "Hit it, Grunt."

The Krogan hurried to the button, mashing it with one massive fist, grunting in satisfaction as a voice sounded over the loudspeaker.

"_First the Krogan mastered Tuchanka, a world only _we_ are fit to hold!"_

Thane put his back to one of the many flimsy pillars dotting the area, above and slightly behind where Shepard stood in her pseudo-corner to watch her flank. Grunt strode forward and stood in the center of the platform that dominated the area, roaring a challenge to the sky.

Across the arena, a door slid open, and a pair of varren emerged. Simultaneously, Thane and Shepard lifted their rifles and squeezed, the rapport from their guns so perfectly timed that it sounded like one large blast. The varren dropped.

Thane glanced at Shepard – that was a difficult shot to make while standing – only to see her grinning at him with fierce joy. Throwing caution to the sea, Thane answered with a grin of his own, giving her a nod before he headed to the right side of the platform. There had been a door on that side as well.

When the last varren dropped, Shepard and Thane circled the area collecting heatsinks while Grunt danced in place over by the keystone.

"Let's hit the keystone, Shepard! I'm ready!" Grunt called in agitation.

Thane's annoyance at the young Krogan spiked, urged on by the gritty sensation of sand under his jacket as it rubbed against the loose scales on his arms. He growled his annoyance under his breath.

"I am going to teach that boy the virtue of patience," Shepard mumbled to Thane as she passed by him. "Here," she said in a more normal voice to Grunt as she slapped some heatsinks into his hand. "Store these then hit the button. Try to keep your pants on."

The agitated Krogan gleefully refilled his ammo and began the next round, summoning the voice over the loudspeaker again.

"_Then the Krogan conquered the stars, an enemy only we could defeat."_

Once again, Shepard took up position on the lower level. Thane planted himself at the top of the steps linking the two levels of the arena, his rifle trained across the platform. She turned to look at him over her shoulder and took two steps forward, placing the steps almost directly behind her, and firmly in her blind spot. The change in position was a tact message of trust in Thane. She would focus on the doors to the front, while he would watch her back. Thane shifted his grip on his rifle, kneeling down to steady his aim for whatever was to come, determined that she would know her trust was not misplaced.

The sound of wings brought their heads up, and Shepard scrambled backwards towards Thane as he and Grunt laid down suppressing fire on the oversized bug that was about to land on Shepard's head.

"Thanks!" She called out breathlessly as she raced past. Stopping just beyond their line of fire, Shepard skidded to a halt, her eyes trained on the sky. "Uh, guys?" she called over her shoulder. "Better kill that thing fast. There's another approaching from the east."

The bug let out a screech and lifted off, the holes riddled in its wings and sides not enough to keep it from escaping out of the range of their gunfire. It left trouble in its wake, three red insectoids that scuttled towards them on two pairs of spiked legs.

"Great. Klixen," Shepard murmured, clearing a heatsink from her rifle before she exchanged it for her SMG. "Use cryo rounds, that'll slow them down, keep 'em from getting too close. And be careful, they spit fire."

With precise cross-fire, they froze the first two Klixen in place. Grunt let out a roar and charged the frozen insects, shattering them into gooey chunks. He got his ass toasted for his efforts by the third.

"Dammit, Grunt! _They breathe fire!_" Shepard cried, unloading a whole clip into the Klaxon close enough to gnaw on Grunt's tail, shattering it with the last shot.

Thane fired his rifle into the momentary lull, and Shepard turned at the death cry behind her. Not five feet away, two more Klixen from the second flying insect were climbing over and around the dead body of the first. Shepard danced backwards and out of their range as Grunt once again closed with them and unloaded his shotgun into the face of the one closest to him.

"Take that!" He cried in triumph before the two dead Klixen exploded. The force of the blast propelled the Krogan off his feet and into a pile of rubble.

"Now that's more like it!" Grunt cried with satisfaction as he freed himself.

Shepard shook her head in fond exasperation.

The three warriors spun around again at the soft thump of another transport bug depositing its load of Klixen onto the battlefield. Shepard barred her teeth in the semblance of a smile. This was going to be fun.

ooOO00OOoo

Thane breathed deeply when he last Klixen exploded into little flaming bits of meat. The dry air of Tuchanka combined with the extreme heat produced by the Klaxons was doing his lungs a world of good. He had not breathed so easily in months.

Another sweep of the area, an application of medigel to Grunt who was the only who who'd been injured by the Klaxons, and Grunt was pressing the keystone again.

"_Now the genophage affects all Krogan, a battle where the only goal is survival!"_ the loudspeaker roared again.

A deep rumble approached from the north, striking a primal fear in two of the three figures still clustered around the keystone.

Grunt just laughed in delight. "You feel that? I'm ready!"

Thane kept an eye on Shepard. Her normal combat posture had been exchanged for something stiffer, and her hands trembled with something he dared not think of as fear. To the north, east, and west, blue tentacles exploded into the air, their split tips fanning the area around them as if looking for something. Shepard gasped when she saw them.

She turned to face her companions, her voice low and urgent. "Listen carefully. We're about to face a thresher maw on foot. These motherfuckers have spacefaring eggs and have taken up residence on half the planets in the galaxy. They're mindless hunger machines with serious territorial issues and the ability to spit face-melting venom a half mile. They are _not_ to be fucked with." She grabbed Grunt by the front of his collar, hauling him down to her level as his attention wandered. "You listening to me, ass-munch?" She demanded. "You get _grazed_ by that shit, and your shields go down. A direct hit, and even a Krogan will be in some _serious_ trouble." She gestured at the melted bodies around the area, which had suddenly taken on sinister importance. "There is only one rule to hunting a thresher maw on foot: _keep moving_. Don't slow down, don't backtrack, and for god's sake, don't stop shooting!" She released the wide-eyed Grunt and reached over her shoulder for the Collector particle beam she always carried with her. "Grunt, use the rocket launcher, but make every shot count. You've only got enough heatsinks for a dozen shots."

The tentacles disappeared, and there was a moment of silence. For that second, Thane met Shepard's eyes and he saw real fear in them.

For him.

And he remembered the story of Akuze, where Shepard's squad was attacked and killed by a thresher maw. Their mako had been destroyed in the initial hit, forcing them out onto the sands of the maw's nest on foot. Shepard was the only one to survive, taking the maw out in a scenario much like this one. She feared this one would play out the same.

Before Thane could say something – he didn't know what – there was a roar, and the ground behind Shepard erupted as the thresher maw arrived, its form massive even at the distance of half a mile or more.

Thane watched the fear in Shepard's eyes be replaced by fierce determination. "MOVE!" she screamed at them.

Grunt turned to his right and dashed to the stairs on that side of the platform, using the slight corner between himself and the thresher maw as cover.

Shepard turned to her right and disappeared in the other direction, splitting their targets, with Thane hot on her heels. They took turns, alternating with Grunt so that every time one side attracted the maw's attention, the other would shower it with bullets.

The maw let out a roar of rage and disappeared back into the ground, racing around the edge of the arena to pop up on the same side as Thane and Shepard, negating their cover. With muffled oaths, the two of them made a dash for the closest shoddy pillar while Grunt hammered the maw with rockets.

Gaining temporary cover, Shepard leaned out and fired one long beam at the maw, pulling her head back as a stream of acid whizzed past, splattering on a metal pipe and eating through it. Panting heavily, Shepard looked at Thane significantly before nodding her head at the next flimsy pillar, ordering him to make the run.

He nodded once and waited for the maw's next shot, wincing when it hit their shelter, bits of venom striking the concrete around them with angry hisses. Fixing his gaze on his destination, Thane raced out into the open, listening for the tell-tale hiss of released air that spoke of the maw's next shot.

He slid into cover just as he heard it, peeking his head out as soon as he realized that the thresher maw hadn't been aiming at him. He was just in time to see the pillar crumble around Shepard, leaving her exposed as the maw reared back to spit again.

Stepping completely free of his pillar, Thane dropped to one knee and steadied his rifle with his elbow on the upraised leg. Lining up the shot, Thane prayed to Arashu for the strength to protect one of her siha's. The long whiskers on the end of its proboscis looked sensitive. If he could just…

The shot rang true, and Thane remembered how to breathe as the thresher jerked in pain, the acid blowing wide of its intended target.

Shepard had her sniper rifle out as well, she'd extinguished the last of her heavy weapon's heat sinks on Thane's rush to safety. Raising it up, she shot the maw in almost the same place he had, the added pain making it tilt its head back in agony and surprise. This left the vulnerable inside arch of its throat open to Grunt's rockets.

There was an animalistic scream as the rocket punched through the last of the thresher maw's armor, ripping a hole in its venom sac, causing it to die by its own corrosive juices.

There was a pause, then a cheer as both Shepard and Grunt whooped in victory, clapping each other heartily on the back.

Thane sat down.

That was too close. Thane had almost lost another siha under his protection. This Rite had been far more difficult than Thane had initially expected it to be, given the limited parameters they had been given. He had swum the whole trench of emotions through the course of it, from joy at her trust, to relief at his improved breathing during the Klixen fight, to the outright terror when faced with the prospect of losing Shepard to the thresher maw. She had come to matter so much to him – he feared what his reactions would be if he were to loose her now.

ooOO00OOoo

The door chimed, and Thane rumbled his displeasure. They had been back onboard the Normandy for less than five minutes when Mordin emerged from his tech lab with a wild look in his eyes, babbling faster than normal. Five minutes after that, and Thane was back on the surface with Mordin, heading into battle once again to rescue Mordin's former pupil who…needed no rescuing at all.

They had eventually returned to the Normandy, leaving Tuchanka behind and Thane finally had some time to himself. That is, until his door chimed.

Uninterested in entertaining visitors, Thane headed for his bunk, intending on retrieving the small scrapers and tools used to facilitate molting. The door chimed twice more on his way, and Thane rounded on the door in a fit of pique. "Come!" he said sharply.

The door opened to reveal the Salarian doctor.

"Professor Mordin," Thane said in surprise, "come in."

"Yes. Thank you." Mordin strode into the room and stopped. "Had talk with XO. Brought up valid points, must consider." He turned away from his perusal of the room to pin Thane with his intense gaze. "Your Kepral's. How advanced?"

Thane was annoyed at yet another invasion of his privacy. "Stage three," he said, folding his arms behind his back.

"Three? Impressive. How are you standing? Most Drell hospitalized at three." Mordin brought up his omni-tool and scanned Thane, who bore it stoically.

"Hmm…" the doctor said, muttering to himself. "Strong skeleton, good muscle tone. Prime example of species, if not for Kepral's." He looked up at Thane. "Pain tolerance?"

Thane thought of the lessons he'd been given at a child. "High," he said simply.

"Must be, to still function. Will need to take samples." Mordin shut down his omni-tool and focused all of his attention on Thane. "Won't take long."

Thane shifted his shoulders uncomfortably in his jacket, the fine sand along the seams scraping his nerves in more than one way. "No. Thank you, Professor. The problem is being attended to." Thane made to move past Mordin, and was surprised when the Salarian moved over, blocking his path.

"XO suggest, want to help. Return favor for Maelon. Also, interest piqued. Bored, now countermeasure for Collectors derived."

"I'm surprised Miss Lawson cares," Thane said dryly.

Mordin blinked. "Not Lawson. Vakarian. Concerned for moral should you die before mission ends. I concur."

_Vakarian_ talked Mordin into this? Why?

Thane shifted his shoulders again, feeling the grains of sand trickle down his back and sides. The dry air of Tuchanka must have speed his molting process, increasing the itch to almost unbearable levels. All he wanted was to convince Mordin to leave so he could attend to the problem.

"Contacted other STG members. Also bored. Need more work. Willing to take on Kepral's. Good challenge. Promise nothing, but want to try," Mordin continued, oblivious to Thane's discomfort.

Thane knew Mordin had to leave, he had no intention of making himself vulnerable to the Salarian.

"Just want to help. No harm possible. Only need samples." Mordin insisted.

Thane's eyes snapped to Mordin's in frustrated annoyance. "What kind of samples?" he demanded brusquely.

"Skin and lung, though breath acceptable. Fungus airborne." Mordin offered Thane a small breather with a bag to catch his exhalations.

Thane accepted it, then breathed deeply into it, filling the catch pocket. Undoing the snaps on his jacket, Thane freed his right arm and reached around to his back, pulling free a large patch of loose scales.

Mordin's eyes lit up. "Molting! Fortuitous." He accepted the skin and slipped it into a container. "Must warn: human/Drell relationships complicated. Drell muscle denser. Stronger. May hurt partner, exercise caution. Human oral contact with Drell skin may cause mild hallucinations. Human may suffer itch and rash due to scales. Will offer Shepard ointment."

Thane gritted his teeth. "Shepard and I aren't-"

"You'd like to. Information necessary. Will send data package. Diagrams, vids. Can answer any questions." Mordin brought up his omni-tool again and Thane heard his own ping in response. Mordin flashed him a smile. "Enjoy." Then he turned, leaving Thane in peace at last.

Thane growled and ripped the rest of his jacket off, hurling it across the room before tugging the zipper of his vest the rest of the way down with fumbling fingers. Within moments, he'd removed his pants as well, and he stood in the center of life support, reveling in the sensation of nothing but air on his scales.

The feeling didn't last, and soon he was scratching feverishly at his scales, sending little flecks of skin and scales fluttering to the floor. It was harried and uncontrolled, not the way to go about molting. Ideally, he would start with his hands, then his face, head, and neck, slowly working his way down his body over the course of several days, peeling each segment away as it loosened naturally. He should have started the process two days ago, but he'd been tracking down Kolyat at the time, and it was easy to brush the itch away in favor of saving his son. Then they'd been on Tuchanka, and the extended mission with Mordin had only pushed the timing back farther.

He ran his hands down his arms, peeling away long strips of loose scales. Large patches on his back had been revealed, as well as the tips of his fingers and segments of his scalp.

His door chimed, but he ignored it as he focused on his hands, using his nails to carefully peel the tiny scales free of their dead covering. He had to pause often and clear out the underside of his nails from the scale-dust he had built up in them. The scales got larger as they moved up his arms, and the work went faster as he approached his wrists. A chime, and he was intent upon working a partially-healed scar free of its creased covering. Damaged places were always the trickiest; he could pull the whole scale free of its moorings if he wasn't careful. He finally retrieved his molting tools and used the small metal pincers to grasp the dead cells and pull them gently free.

Chime, and he was scratching carefully at his elbows, peeling patches away by feel.

Chime, and Thane flicked a glance at the door. Only one person should intrude upon this very personal time. Only one person would he welcome to see him so vulnerable. Only one he wanted to soothe the ache that grew as new nerves were exposed to the teasing currents of air.

One person that opened the door and entered without an invitation.

"Shepard." Thane rumbled, drawing the word out as his senses came alive at her presence.

"Look, Thane. I know you're busy, but this won't take long. I just wanted to ask you about the exploration probe upgrade you were talking about earlier."

She obviously hadn't looked up when she came in, or her words would have been much different.

Thane had long since mastered the mental control necessary to restrain his baser impulses, but that didn't mean he could not feel them. For all that he was nearing the end of his life, Thane had entered his physical prime five years previous. Cruel or not, Thane's heart knew what it wanted, and she had just walked through the door, freshly washed and smelling of flowers. His nerves thrummed, and Thane bowed his head, hunching his shoulders against temptation. He was naked and willing – there was so little space between them.

"Shepard," Thane said, his voice thick with arousal. "I'm afraid now is not a good time."

"Two seconds. I just nee-" There was a pause, and he heard her suck in air through her teeth. "Oh my God! What's happened to you?" Quick steps approaching, and Thane hunched over even more, squeezing his eyes shut as his hands clamped down over his elbows. "Are you – does it hurt?" she asked softly, one hand coming to rest against his back, her fingers brushing against sensitive new scales.

He hissed and shuddered, fighting the desire to turn and take her in his arms. Why did she do this to him? She _knew_ his life expectancy. She knew he would leave her soon, why must she continue to care? How could he let it affect him so? He'd always thought of himself as an honorable man, at least, he always strove to be honorable. But now he was confronted with the bitter fact that he wasn't half as honorable as he would like to believe. He'd been avoiding the truth for too long, but he knew it now. Shepard was far more than a friend to him, his emotions had long since altered from friendly companionship into something much deeper. He had been blind not to see it before. He didn't simply care for the Commander.

He loved her.

Her hand slipped tenderly down his spine, freeing a long strip he'd been unable to reach. "I get it," she said with soft realization. "You're shedding. From across the room I thought your scales were discolored. Is that why the…clothes?" Her voice turned tentative and embarrassed at the end.

Thane took as deep a breath as he could, trying to force the tumult of emotions aroused by his discovery deep down, packing them away for later perusal. "Leather is most comfortable against scales. It does not catch and pull the wrong way as woven fabric does. But when molting is upon us, anything at all is an irritant and a barrier to the removal of the outer layer."

"I understand. I shouldn't have barged in like that. I should have known that you didn't answer for good reason." She removed her hand, and Thane keenly felt its loss. "I'll…leave you alone."

Thane bowed his head and let her go.

ooOO00OOoo

Okay. Whew! **fans self** That was….hot… Is it just me, or did the temperature spike significantly at the end? I'm just going to go…get a glass of water. Maybe a cold shower or two….


	18. Chapter 18

Author's Note: Okay. So. A couple things.

FIRST: Today marks the one-year anniversary of Synodic Day. 0_o

SECOND: It is also my birthday. Yay!

On that note, on with the show!

ooOO00OOoo

Thane settled into a languid stretch, his body humming from the simple pleasure of it. There was one good thing about waiting so long to begin the molting process: he'd managed to completely strip his body of the old skin in a matter of hours. He lingered for a while longer before finally putting his leathers back on, hissing in the back of his throat as he did so. The newly exposed nerves were overly sensitive, and any contact with them was uncomfortable. Unfortunately, the only way to reduce their sensitivity was to expose them to stimulation.

Shrugging back into his jacket, Thane cleaned up his scrapings and crossed the room to settle at the table in his usual position. He brought up his omni-tool to check his messages, both relieved and nervous to see a message from Kolyat. He'd had two days to process what had happened; two days to get over the shock of seeing Thane again, and regain hold of his anger.

Thane opened the message with a certain amount of trepidation, and was surprised to see that it had both audio and video. Kolyat's image appeared, a nondescript white background behind him.

"Hi, Da-uh. Yeah. Hi." He released a high noise of unease that the microphones easily picked up and translated to Thane. "Bailey insists that we do it this way. He says that words on a screen aren't enough. That if we can't be face-to-face, we at least should record video messages. He's willing to foot the bill on this end if you do the same on yours." Kolyat's face twisted, but he kept whatever harsh comment accompanied it to himself. "I don't really know what to say to you. We're supposed to take this time to get to know each other as adults, but all I want to do is yell and scream like a child."

Kolyat shifted in his seat, his face mirroring the distressed rumble that was a constant backdrop to his words. "Why did you abandon us? How could you think that was alright? Mom was always just a little sad when you were gone, no matter how I tried to cheer her up. She really loved you. We both did."

'_Did' _Thane thought, a soft, unconscious warble rising in his throat.

Kolyat leaned forward, his face and bearing taking on an intensity Thane never thought he'd see from his son. "_And you left,"_ he spat before taking a deep breath and regaining his composure. Thane could see that Kolyat was struggling to control himself as he pressed his back into the chair again. "I don't know if you can adequately explain it to me. I don't think I _want_ to know. But I think I _need_ to understand." When Kolyat reopened his eyes, the deep hurt and anger in them took Thane's breath away.

Remorse bit deep, but Thane crushed the emotion. The only reason Kolyat was alive now to be angry at his father was because Thane had sundered himself from his family when Kolyat was a child. His continued absence in Kolyat's life had created a rift between them larger than Thane would have liked. In fact; if they had been Hanar, Kolyat wouldn't even know his own father's Soul Name...

but that ignorance had kept him safe. Thane regretted many things, but his son's safety would not be one of them.

"Things are different on the Citadel," Kolyat continued. "It's so big sometimes I think I could get lost, even with my memory. Bailey's paired me with one of his turian officers and we go around settling disputes between the various species. Bailey seems to think that just because I remember things I'd make a good peacekeeper." Kolyat's face twisted into a wry smile. "Funny thing is, he's probably right. Faavon says that the number of disputes settled peaceably has jumped since I joined him. Maybe I spent too much time carefully avoiding insult to the hanar, but I seem to get along pretty well with everyone else. What the hanar considered simple courtesy, most species see as polite respect; it makes convincing them of things much easier. There's more hanar here than I expected. They all smile at me as we make our rounds. Maybe they're just glad to see someone from the Compact. I know I am. Seeing all these alien faces is unsettling. And the humans! How can you stand them? They're brash, impolite, and stomp all over people to get what they want. I can see why they're called bullies."

Kolyat's attention abruptly shifted to something off-screen. When his eyes returned to the camera there was a spark of anticipation in his gaze. "Time's up. We've been called to go handle a dispute between an elcor and a hanar. This could be interesting." He paused, then his face softened. "I may not like you, but…try not to get hurt too bad, okay?" The message ended.

Thane sat there in silence, trying to formulate a response. It was difficult. His mind kept replaying Kolyat's last words.

_Try not to get hurt too bad,_ he had said. Even with all that Thane had put his son through, Kolyat's heart was still pure enough to desire his fathers safety. Thane gathered his thoughts, put them in a semblance of order, and hit the record button.

"Hello, Kolyat." An easy place to start, and it neatly avoided the issue of whether or not to call him 'son'. "I am grateful to Bailey for suggesting this mode of communication. It was nice to see your face; hear your voice. I did not have a chance to say this earlier, so I will do so now. You have grown into a fine man, and I am proud of you."

Thane bowed his head as he spoke his next words, determined to be less reticent. He wanted his son to understand his motivations; perhaps that would help shorten some of the distance between them. "I left you and your mother to take contracts because I did not know what else to do. She was a secretary for a hanar under the Compact when we met and did not make much money. It took her months of saving to buy this jacket, part of why I am loath to part from it." Thane lifted his hands towards the camera, as if to show his sleeves. "I barely made enough to live off of. We were poor, living in a one-room apartment with salvaged scrap for furniture. Your mother… she deserved better. "

Out of the range of the camera, Thane rubbed his hands together. He'd not spoken so many words at a time since Irikah's death, and he was feeling distinctly uncomfortable with it. But he forged on, determined that Kolyat would have the chance to know his father. "I knew that I could charge much higher prices if I freelanced, so I asked to be released from the Compact. My Masters were generous enough to agree. I picked up my first contract a week later." Thane raised his head, looking his son in the eyes through the separation of time. "We bought a house outright as soon as I returned. She was never comfortable with what I did, and insisted that we limit ourselves to living off a fraction of the money I brought in. Most of it got set aside, as your inheritance. It is for your use, by your mother's will." Thane dropped his eyes again, studying the newly revealed scales on his hands. Hopefully, knowing that the money was really from Irikah, not Thane, would allow Kolyat to accept it.

He went silent for a moment, giving Kolyat the time he would undoubtedly need to process that information, then he switched topics. "I do not find humans as offensive as I used to. This is due in large part to Commander Shepard and her crew. While it is true that some of them are even more harsh than previous examples of their species – there is a biotic here who holds more hurt-anger, and hate than any other sentient I have encountered - there are also those that seem to not only tolerate alien differences, but to actually court them." Thane shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he thought of Kelly Chambers. "Some of them can be rather too friendly, actually." He forced his thoughts away from the Yeoman and back on the task at hand. "Commander Shepard is perhaps the best of the group. She does not see the differences in species, merely differences in personality. She is also the one I have the most difficulty understanding, a highly irregular occurrence for me." He rumbled amusement. "She fights. Not for her people, but for all people. I am glad to stand by her side. I wish there was time to properly introduce the two of you, I believe you would like her. _You_ might not find her unpredictability so frustrating. "

"When we spoke on the Citadel, I promised myself that I would not pressure you, but I find myself yearning for news of you just the same." He hadn't wanted to force his attentions onto Kolyat, but the words seemed determined to be said, whether his Will was behind them or not. Thane looked blankly at the screen, unable to summon any more words that wouldn't sound like pleading. Eventually, he settled on a simple goodbye. "May Arashu protect you, until Kalihira calls you to the sea."

Thane turned off the recording and sat back in his chair. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he savored the brief bursts of pain that accompanied the gesture – and the clarity of mind that came with it. He still had to decide what he would do about Barla Von. The volus had purposefully, _knowingly_ failed to keep his end of the bargain in order to get his hands on Thane's money a year early. Worse, he'd corrupted another volus to do it; then had the poor man killed to cover his tracks.

Such deceit and betrayal could not go unpunished... but good had come from the action. Kolyat was back in his life. Such a gift from the gods should be appreciated, and acting against the one they had moved in such a manner felt sacrilegious. What to do? Thane longed for someone to speak to about this. No, he longed to speak to Shepard about this.

He wanted to stay away from her; to limit their exposure to each other so that his death would not touch her deeply. But, there was nothing sexual or romantic about one person asking the advice of another. Or so he told himself as he stepped off the elevator to stand in front of Shepard's Cave.

"EDI?" Thane inquired in a soft voice, aware that it was very early in the day cycle for the humans. "Would you quietly determine if Shepard is awake for me? And, if she is, inquire if I may enter?"

The avatar appeared at his elbow, speaking to him in a series of flickering lights. "Commander Shepard is awake and has changed the security protocols on her cabin to allow you free access at all times."

He dallied on the wrong side of her door for some time, contemplating the meaning behind the gesture, or if there was any at all. Perhaps he should leave. EDI had been silent when she'd checked on the Commander; it was likely she didn't know she had a guest. He could go. Turn on his heel, board the elevator, and retreat back to life support – an area free of the Shepard-induced confusion she wrought in him.

He tried to make himself leave, but his feet remained firmly rooted to the floor. He looked down, the heaviness of his legs told him that the Will of his mind and body were not in sync. He knew that going in there now would only encourage in her the affections he was trying to smother in himself.

Thane rumbled his frustration. How could he hope to convince her to step away from him, when he couldn't even overrule the will of his body? The problem was that there was nowhere else he wanted to be, but on the other side of that door. Companionship, comfort, advice…love. All of those things waited for him beyond an entrance that was unbarred to him.

Thane surrendered to the will of his body and moved towards the door, his feet swiftly compliant. He felt Whole now, as he had not in years. So it was with a sense of relief that he passed his hand over the palm lock, gratified when it gave way without hesitation. He stepped into the room, surprised at how dark it was before the sensors detected his presence and turned the lights on.

Shepard's reaction was immediate. Within moments she was on her feet, her pistol retrieved from its place on the nightstand as she executed a combat roll out of bed and pointed at him where he stood poised at the top of the steps. She must have been working on her weapons before she went to bed, he thought, focusing determinedly on the dissembled sniper rifle laid out on her coffee table.

Thane tried to ignore the fact that she was wearing nothing but her underclothes.

"My apologies, I did not mean to intrude." He began to walk brusquely towards the doors in an attempt to escape. "I will leave you in pea-"

"Hold it," she fairly growled at him, cranky at being woken in such a manner, and Thane once again found himself rooted on the wrong side of the door. "I assume you're here for a reason?"

Thane began to turn around to address her, only to whip back around as he realized she was still in the same state of undress she had been in. How rude must she consider him right now? He'd invaded her rooms and inadvertently disturbed her rest "It can wait."

"…are you embarrassed?" Her voice held an incredulous note to it.

Thane shifted his feet.

Rustling clothing, then: "You can turn around now, Thane," she said with a small laugh, "it's safe."

He spun slowly in place, reluctantly taking a few steps forward at her impatient gesture. She was wearing clothing he'd not seen on her before. It was woven like most human fabrics, but looser than anything he'd seen before, with long, wide sleeves and a scooped neck that revealed tantalizing glimpses of her collarbone.

"I apologize." Thane repeated, unsure of what else to say. "I did not intend to disturb your rest."

Shepard sighed and settled on the foot of her rumpled bed. "Have a seat, Thane," she said, gesturing at the couch. "What can I help you with?"

Thane blinked at her, momentarily spellbound by the sight of her unbound hair. The free-flowing strands were nothing new to Thane, but the black fire floating around Shepard's face brought the sunrise of Kahje to mind. Those first streaks of crimson across a midnight sky when all the world was silent, and the Gods spoke in the spaces between breaths.

"Thane?" she prodded softly, running a hand through the locks that so captivated him, freeing him from their grasp.

"I came here hoping to get your advice on a matter." Thane admitted.

"Go ahead. I-"

She stopped as the alarm on the clock next to her bed went off. She rose from her position at the end of the bed and silenced it. Moving to the couch, she flashed him a smile as she leisurely began to reassemble her rifle, inspecting each piece carefully before sliding it into place. "I was about to get up anyway."

Thane watched for a moment before he spoke. "I have not been entirely honest with you, Shepard. I knew Kolyat was going to receive the package early before he actually acquired possession of it. On our first trip to the Citadel, I used the shore leave you granted us to update the package I left with the volus banker, Barla Von. It was then that I discovered the volus sent it off early and had already acquired the final payment he was to receive upon my death. I suspected at the time that he'd given me false reasons for the packages delivery, but I had no proof. I have recently come into possession of some, thanks to EDI."

"That sounds more like a confession." Shepard flicked an amused glance his way and fitted another piece into place. "What proof did she give you?" She asked into the quiet.

"A string of correspondence between Barla von and the volus who was holding the money in trust before my death. They agreed to split the funds between them and open the package to get at the secrets of the assassin Thane Krios. They hadn't yet cracked the encoding on it when I arrived, so they sent it off with the first-class mail, enabling them to claim that it had been shipped much earlier." Her movements were smooth and confident; the soft click as each piece slid into place a soothing jingle against his frayed nerves. Thane felt himself relaxing, settling deeper into the couch. What he wouldn't give to be able to spend the rest of his life just like this.

"What do you want to do about it?"

"That is what I wanted to discuss with you. Such betrayal is not to be borne, but it feels like the Gods might have led them to act out of greed to allow me this opportunity to reconnect with my son. To take the volus to task for following the will of the Gods would be wrong and ungrateful of me. I am unsure of which path to take. An uncommon situation for me."

Silence reigned while Shepard considered his words. Comforted by her presence, Thane felt himself slipping closer to the edge of sleep and he lacked the energy to fight it. He had spent the whole night working on freeing his scales, and was unable to sleep afterwards. Between the end of the molting process, and her soothing presence, he'd not felt so relaxed in years. Always there was the slight tension that meant he was watching for surprise attacks, even as he slept. But he was safe here.

"Why must there be only two options?" she asked finally, rousing him from his lethargy. "What about a third?"

"I cannot think of one," Thane rumbled, his eyes half-lidded as he watched her movements with lazy contentment. "Either they are called to task in order to pay for their betrayal, or they are not."

She smiled wickedly. "There is an ancient human three-pronged curse that I think works well here. 'May you live in interesting times. May you come to the attention of powerful people. May you find what you are looking for.'"

Thane looked at her with interest, fully awake now. "What do you suggest?"

"Well, I would call these times interesting, wouldn't you? Collectors, Protheans, geth, and - oh yeah - Reapers." She shrugged. "They've already got _our_ attention. So all we need to do is make sure the find what they're looking for."

"They already have my money, S-Shepard." It was getting harder and harder not to call her Siha. "What are you thinking?"

"I dunno. Something about turning his information broker business against him. I'm sure we can come up with something."

Thane thought the idea over, excited by the possibilities it offered. "It has potential. I enjoy the idea of denying him his resources."

Shepard laughed at the rumble she could hear filling the room. "Do you do that often?" she asked, a hand to her chest.

"Almost always. Most of our emotions have accompanying guttural noises. It is possible to suppress them, but uncomfortable. I generally do not bother because only the Justicar and Officer Vakarian can hear the bulk of them. Samara assures me that she finds it soothing; we meditate together sometimes."

"Ohh, quality time with the Justicar. Should I be worried?" Shepard teased.

"Hardly," he rumbled, unable to fight the smirk that splayed across his face.

Shepard looked up from her work, her ears turning pink in a blush before she laughed nervously and dropped her eyes back onto the rifle.

"Well regardless," she said, after clearing her throat. "I'm glad that you're making friends, if nothing else."

"As am I. I have never traveled with companions long-term before. While irritating at times, it is certainly more enjoyable than spending all of my days alone."

"Irritataing are we?"

"Exceedingly."

Shepard's head snapped up to his eyes at the tone he used, but she instantly relaxed when she saw the smile hovering around the edges of his lips. "You poor, poor soul. You must feel so put-upon."

He spread his hands out to the sides, wrists upwards, a flirtatious gesture he didn't attempt to hide. She wouldn't understand it. "I make no claims to the contrary. My life has been hard indeed." He looked off to the side, pretending to pull up a painful memory. "So many pretty women around, I don't know which to look at first." He slowly turned his head back, making sure she saw his eyes fall on her.

Shepard ducked her head back down, quickly finishing her rifle assembly, making an uncomfortable noise in the back of the throat that fascinated Thane. Such a gesture was akin to what a drell would do. Thane watched her nervous movements with amusement, her previously smooth gestures made staccato by the embarrassment. She gathered her weapons and brought them to the locker across the room that housed her still-green armor. When she moved to make the bed, he rose and assisted her, earning a small smile in gratitude.

"Thanks," she said. A soft smile decorated her bottom lip, charming him into brief silence.

"You are most welcome, Siha."

She blinked. "Siha?"

Thane rumbled his amusement, but kept his face bland. "Some other time, perhaps. I believe Gardner will be serving breakfast shortly." He held a hand out to her as he turned to leave. "Would you care to join me?"

Her face lit up with suppressed humor. "Join you to a meal on _my _ship? Sure. Why not?" She took his hand and allowed him to lead her to the door of her cabin, still dressed in her casual clothes. She separated from him there, releasing his hand with a gentle squeeze of her fingers. "Go on ahead; I'm going to get cleaned up."

"Of course. I will be waiting."

ooOO00OOoo

The elevator doors closed and the machinery began to hum around Thane as he considered the last few minutes. He had entered Shepard's cabin with the intent to speak to her about his troubles, his mood thoughtful and morose. He had left with only the barest hint of a plan, but with a smile on his lips and a bounce in his step.

Why was he fighting this -whatever this was - between them so hard? Would it not be better to grasp what gifts the Gods had given him? Shepard was not a woman to need protection, especially not from him. She knew him, knew his flaws and his weaknesses. If she should choose to join with him, what cause had he to object?

The humming stopped and Thane stepped out onto the Crew Deck, turning the corner into the Mess. "Good Morning, Mr. Gardner," he said to the ship's cook.

"G'mornin, Mr. Ser." Gardner said, waving a batter-coated spoon at Thane. "You're up early again."

Thane smiled and sauntered up to the kitchen island, perusing the foods available. "Drell sleep less than humans do, and I have always needed less sleep than the average drell." He glanced up at the cook, noting the tight shoulders and the shallow smile. "Have you heard from your niece, yet?"

The shoulders tightened some more, then released slightly enough that Thane barely caught it. "Not as yet, no. Cerberus assures me that Cypriss is not likely to be hit by the Collectors, but..."

"But they said the same thing about Ferris Fields."

"Yeah."

Thane leaned over the counter and placed two fingers on the cook's forearm. "It has only been one week. Most shuttles would not be able to go from the relay to the colony in that time. Be patient."

"I know, I know. It's just-" The sound of the elevator's doors opening caused Gardner to immediately straighten up and plaster a big smile upon his face. "Good morning!" he sang.

"Good morning," Commander Shepard replied as she came around the corner, uniform crisply ironed and her hair in its perpetual bun. "What's the grub this morning?"

"Pancakes."

"Wonderful. I love your pancakes." Shepard approached and grabbed a plate, heaping a stack of three pancakes atop it. Thane watched on in amusement as she proceeded to slather it in butter and syrup.

"That just looks disgusting." Garrus said, approaching from around the corner.

"That would be because you have no taste." Shepard returned, choosing a seat at one of the tables.

Thane grabbed a selection of fruit and joined her, followed a few minutes later by Garrus with his own selection of foods.

Shepard eyed his food dubiously, taking in the purple substance with it's equally strange orange coating. "_Nathak?_"

Garrus laughed, his mandibles flaring wide. "Why is your first guess always _nathak?_"

She shrugged and took a bit of her pancake. "I figure the first time I don't is when you'll actually be eating it."

"Nope. Two more."

"Hmm..._iswi?_"

Garrus took a bite of the purple stuff, flicking the fingers of his left hand at her; turian body language for 'no'.

Shepard cocked her head to the side as she studied him, one of her elbows flaring out to the side.

The elevator door opened, and Tali came around the corner. "Oh, good. I haven't missed it. What number is she on?"

"Three." Thane supplied.

"Ohh, last chance, Shepard!" Tali retrieved a dextro food packet and settled at the table with it, attaching it to the in-port on the side of her suit. More crewmen trickled into the Mess, gathering plates of pancakes and settling at the tables to eat.

Shepard leaned back in her chair, and finished her meal in quiet contemplation as the volume in the mess slowly swelled. This morning, most of the crew seemed slow to get going, but Shepard didn't have the heart to condemn them for it. Besides, they weren't going to head into battle immediately. _Speaking of..._ Shepard thought, lifting her head to scan the Mess.

"Hey, Joker!" she called over the rising din.

"Yeah, Commander?"

"Take us back to the Citadel when you get back up to the cockpit."

"Wha? Didn't we just come from there? I thought we were heading back out to the traverse." Joker spun in his seat to look at her, his pancakes abandoned for the moment.

Shepard shrugged. "Yeah. But I got a message from the Illusive Man this morning. He's got two new people he wants me to pick up. First is on the Citadel. Second is on Omega."

"_Why_ are you dancing to his tune, again?" Tali asked in aggravation.

"Because he pays the bills. Most of the time he manages to shut up and stay out of my way. Besides," Shepard flushed slightly, her foot sliding to the side to rest against Thane's leg, "some of his suggestions actually turned out rather well."

Thane rumbled a contented sound at her tentative touch. So much good had come into his life since he had met Shepard. She brought him joy and contentment where before he had been only blank effort, moving towards a nebulous goal.

"You give up, Shepard?" Garrus taunted, his meal almost complete.

She snorted. "No. I knew from the start. Just didn't want to break your poor little heart by winning too fast."

Garrus snapped his teeth at her in a challenge.

She laughed and leaned back in her chair, cradling a cup of tea in her hands. She brought it slowly to her mouth, wiggling her eyebrows at him in an exaggerated manner. _"Kiyorio."_

Garrus' mouth dropped open comically, his mandibles sagging to the side. "God damn you and your knowing everything!" he laughed.

"I know," Shepard said with an air of smugness. "What I want to know is how _you_ acquired the taste of such a bitter food. That's the fourth time this month you've eaten it."

Garrus grumbled and speared the last of his food, chewing it sulkily. "I might have had a strange partner in C-sec before I met you. She might have lived on one of the _really_ poor colonies. She might have eaten it when she missed her family."

"And you might have eaten it with her so that she didn't feel so alone?" Shepard asked.

Garrus squirmed in his chair. "Maybe."

"You may look like a pointy rooster, but you're just a big space teddy-bear."

"Screw you."

ooOO00OOoo

Author's Second Note: Many thanks to Roarkshop for her lovely plug. I feel so flattered! Also, to all you new readers: welcome to the party! I hope you aren't disappointed.

Roarkshop was kind enough to give this a quick look over, and as always thank you so much to my wonderful betas: BlackAquoKat and MindTwinMari for helping me clean this chapter up! This one's for you guys!


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